


Blood and Sand

by scribblemoose



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-14
Updated: 2004-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 84,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows from 'Tinsel'. Will Squall and Irvine's new relationship stand the test of their own past and fresh challenges?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clubbing

Irvine watched Squall sleeping, enjoying a moment of peace and contentment with, if he was honest with himself, a certain amount of smugness. This was the thirteenth morning he'd woken up with Squall in his bed, and he found it was a habit he could definitely get used to.

He checked the clock: it was nearly seven. Any minute now the alarm would go off, and Squall would be suddenly awake and probably cross at the intrusion. It seemed like a very harsh and inconsiderate way to wake up someone who was sleeping as peacefully as Squall was at that moment.

Irvine reached carefully over Squall's comatose form, and turned off the alarm. Smiling to himself, he propped himself up on one elbow, and slid his other arm under the warm covers. He stroked his hand softly across Squall's chest, watching carefully for any signs of impending wakefulness.

There were none, so let his hand continue on it's journey, luxuriating in the soft skin of Squall's waist, his hip… and then, very, very slowly, Irvine trailed his fingers across flat, toned belly until he reached his quarry.

Squall had an impressive morning hard-on, something of a trend, as Irvine had observed these past thirteen mornings. He gently wrapped his fingers around it, watching Squall's face all the while, and finally, firmly but not too hard, he squeezed.

His love came awake, not with the rude start the alarm would have produced, but with a groan of pleasure and a luxurious stretch, pushing himself into Irvine's grasp, his sexiest smile creeping across his face.

Irvine rewarded him with a stroke or two, and leaned over to kiss him properly awake. "Morning, babe," he whispered.

"Mmmgh…" Squall replied, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, revealing cloudy grey eyes, still full of sleep. "Hey." He smiled again.

Gods, but Irvine could never get enough of that smile.

"This good?" He continued to stroke Squall's cock, just gently, back and forth, easing Squall's body into the day.

"Mmmn…" Squall murmured approvingly. "Time?"

"Plenty of time, babe. Alarm hasn't gone off yet," he soothed, quite truthfully, technically speaking.

Squall relaxed into the rhythm Irvine was setting, his tongue slipping between Irvine's lips as they kissed, softly at first, then with mounting passion as Irvine's touch became more purposeful. Squall's breath shortened, the movement of his hips intensified, and Irvine kissed across his jaw, down his throat, paused to flirt with one tiny nipple; ducked under the covers and took Squall's aching erection in his hot, wet mouth.

He heard the muffled sound of Squall's groan, felt it vibrating through his body. He sucked gently, just enough to make sure that every inch of Squall's length was being touched, revelling in the taste and the feel of him, caressing with soft lips and wet tongue. He felt Squall push the covers back, threading his fingers through Irvine's glossy auburn hair, and Irvine watched the pure pleasure on Squall's face as he gently fucked Irvine's mouth.

Irvine's fingers explored Squall's inner thighs, almost tickling, teased his ass and finally curled around his balls, pressing the spot just behind them with trigger-strong fingertips.

Squall arched his back with a long moan, his cock swelled, balls pulled up tight, and Irvine clamped his lips around the base of his erection as he spurted down Irvine's throat. He slid back a little to take the last few drops on his tongue, so as to properly taste it, and let Squall's cock fall from his mouth, catching it in his hand, enclosing it in warm fingers as it slowly began to soften.

Squall was staring happily at the ceiling, a foolish grin on his face.

"Gah," he said.

"Sure, babe," Irvine agreed, kissing his way back up to Squall's lips, sharing Squall's own flavours with him.

"Mmm… time?"

"Er… ah. Half past seven, sweetheart."

"Wha… fuck! Alarm didn't go off! Fuck!"

And Squall was out of bed, swearing prodigiously and on his way to the shower, desperately searching for a towel on the way.

Irvine lay back with a sigh. Oh well. It had to be a better way to wake up, still, than the alarm. He heard the shower start, and started to contemplate his own hard-on, which was throbbing not inconsiderably as a result of his efforts for Squall.

"Shit!" came Squall's voice from the bathroom. The sound of the shower became suddenly louder as the door opened and Squall, clad fetchingly in a small white towel, returned.

He stomped over to the bed and took Irvine by the hand. "Forgot you," he said. "Shower. Fuck. Now."

Irvine let himself be dragged to bliss, a very happy smile on his face.

* * * * * * *

"For the last time, I don't do clubs," Squall prodded his sandwich sulkily with his knife and gave it a hard stare for good measure.

"I don't see why not," said Irvine, lazily. "Lots of people not wearing much and simulating sex on a dance floor. Sounds to me like the perfect social occasion for an exhibitionist like you."

Squall gave him one of his more dangerous looks.

"It's the perfect opportunity. It's a great club, and best of all, it's in Esthar. Away from here. Oh, come on, babe, let your hair down for a change."

"No."

"You know you're going to give in eventually." Irvine regarded Squall's sullen expression thoughtfully; in fact he didn't look much like he was going to give in at all. Time to bring out the big guns. "Well, it's up to you. But remember this: if you don't come clubbing with me, you'll have to spend all night at a boring presidential reception."

Squall's eyes narrowed, his gaze steelier than ever.

"Of course, you mightn't mind that so much," Irvine continued, straight-faced, "meeting all those dignitaries, being shown off as the hero who defeated Ultimecia and long-lost son of the President. Oh, and I expect they'll want you to tell witty and amusing stories about our adventures…"

"Oh gods…" Squall slumped his head down onto the table.

"But it's up to you, babe. Of course." Irvine allowed himself a victory smirk.

"Fuck."

Irvine waited patiently.

"Oh, all right then. You win," Squall said, voice echoing against the Formica table top. "But I'm not going to pretend to enjoy it. And you'll have to think of some way to get us out of the reception."

"That's fine, babe, leave it to me. We'll take Laguna out for a birthday dinner, and I'll get Selphie to charm the pants off him so he won't even notice us slip away after." He ruffled Squall's hair affectionately, ignoring the growl he got in return. "And then I'll show you the best club in the whole world, ever."

"You torment me on purpose," Squall snarled, raising his head, "don't think I don't know."

"Nah," Irvine replied. "Well, maybe just a bit. Now, are you going to finish your lunch, or just glare at it? Only the Ragnarok leaves in half an hour."

Squall frowned at him, hard, and set about eating his sandwich.

* * * * * * *

Irvine watched Squall get increasingly nervous as they got closer to Esthar. Unfortunately for the rest of them, Squall's nerves tended to translate directly to ill-temper and brooding, which made it a tense journey for everyone.

He knew better than to try and soothe his lover, though. Better to give him some space to work things out a little for himself first. After all, finding you had a father suddenly after seventeen years of being an orphan would unnerve anyone. And it being someone you thought was a bit of jerk, and the president of Esthar to boot probably didn't help any. Add to that the prospect of impending public functions, which to Squall were pure torture, and it was no wonder, really, that he was a little overwrought.

"What are you staring at, Kinneas?"

Irvine shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "Nothing in particular," he lied.

"Well, stop it."

"Of course, Commander. Whatever you say." He turned to Zell in the pilot's seat next to him. "Hey, Zell, how much longer?"

"About half an hour."

Squall huffed irritably. "Going for a walk," he said, and trudged off.

Irvine let him go with a sympathetic look that Squall may or may not have noticed.

Everyone relaxed perceptibly, with a mass lowering of shoulders and sighing of breath.

"You'd think we were going into battle rather than a birthday party." said Quistis, taking a book out of her bag and curling long legs under her.

"I think for him battles are easier," said Irvine.

"Mmm," Quistis agreed, taking out her bookmark and smoothing the pages open. "I think he finds it hard to adjust to a life without a constant state of emergency, to be honest. I know I do," she added, despite the fact that she looked the epitome of contentment, settling down to a good read.

Zell stood up, yawning.

"Take over from us for a minute, Selphie?" he asked, "I really need a piss."

"Sure," she replied, "although, update on bodily functions not strictly necessary."

Selphie slid into Zell's seat and flashed Irvine a half-smile. In the thirteen-and-a-half days since Irvine and Squall had got together things had eased a little between Selphie and Irvine, but they were still a long way from the friendship that had got them both through Ultimecia.

She cleared her throat. "So," she said, "how's it going?"

Irvine felt a foolish grin spread across his face. Judging by the way it made his jaw ache, he'd been doing a lot of grinning lately.

"Great," he said.

"You happy?"

He looked at her. "What do you think?"

Her face broke into a twinkly smile, the sort that used to make his knees buckle.

"I think you look like a cat in a creamery. Or a sniper in a junk shop. Possibly both."

"Yeah. It feels a bit like that."

"Squall's happy, too," she flashed a glance at the door, "except for the stomping off in a sulk. But hey, even that's not as bad as usual. He actually spoke first, after all."

"He's a bit strung-out. You know: Laguna, and especially the reception and stuff. Not his thing, really."

"He's okay with Laguna though, isn't he? I thought they'd sorted stuff out?"

Irvine shrugged. "We haven't talked about it. I think it's okay. It's the reception that's really bugging him, though."

She looked thoughtfully at him. "Okay, Irvy. What do you want?"

"Me? Want? What d'you mean?" He kept his face as innocent as possible.

"I know you too well. You're after something. What is it?"

"Oh. Well, there is one teeny thing…"

"Ha! I knew it!"

"It's the reception. I need to get him out of it."

"What, the official thing? Won't Laguna expect him to be there?"

"Mmm. Only, surely he won't mind too much? He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who's into all that ceremonial crap himself, really. And we're going to take him to dinner, aren't we? Surely he'll like that better."

"It is his birthday," Selphie pointed out. "Couldn't Squall just put up with it for a bit?"

"Hn. Well, the thing is…"

"Oh yes. And what is the thing, exactly?" she observed him with piercing eyes, her head tilted to one side, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to take him clubbing. A lot. It would be so good for him… oh, please, Seffie? He's had such a hard time, with Rinoa and everything, and he needs to shake loose… Will you help? Please? For me?"

She looked away, resisting the urge to laugh, busying herself with the control panel in front of her. "No," she said.

"Oh, Seffie…"

"I won't do it for you. But I'll do it for Squall. You're right, he needs some time off."

He gave her an impulsive hug, and they grinned at each other, openly, for the first time what felt like a very long while.

"So," said Selphie, "what d'you want me to do?"

"Can you explain to Laguna? As far as the officials are concerned I can think up something all Commandery that he has to go do. But Squall wouldn't want to lie to his father. I don't think."

"Okay, no problem."

"Thanks, Seffie, you're the best."

She started to key in landing instructions, the flickering screen casting an orange glow across her face.

"I'm really pleased, you know," she said, quietly. "About you and Squall. I think you're right for each other. You're going to make each other very happy."

He swallowed, hard. "Yes," he said, eventually. "I think so, too. Thanks, Sef. It means a lot, to have your blessing. After… well, after everything that happened between us."

She nodded. "Well, time to move on, huh?" She shot him a wicked look. "So, where you taking him? Not the Torama by any chance?"

Irvine leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "Of course," he said. "Where else?"

Selphie laughed. "He doesn't have a clue what he's got himself into, with you, does he?"

"I hope not," said Irvine. "I kind of rely on the element of surprise."

Quistis snickered; possibly in response to something she'd been reading, Irvine thought. Or maybe not.

There was a ring of boot-heels on metal walkway, and Squall returned, still looking like thunder, and slumped in a chair near the door, glowering out of the window.

"Are we nearly there yet?" he gruffed.

* * * * * * *

The presidential palace seemed even more enormous than Irvine had remembered it. They were assigned the same rooms as usual, except for Squall, who now had a room of his own next to Laguna's apartment. Which wasn't, Irvine reflected, particularly convenient. Sneaking from one end of the residential wing to the other was going to be difficult, especially with the palace guard keeping an eye on whatever went on near the President.

He was pondering this problem with some concern as he unpacked, so deep in thought he almost didn't hear Squall come in.

"Hey, babe," Irvine said, noticing that Squall still had a frown on his face, and shoulders so tense that Irvine just itched to press his fingers into them and work out the knots.

"Hey. Um. I just wondered," there was a glint of something in Squall's eyes that wasn't altogether bound up in worry and bad-temper, "if I could borrow your shampoo?" The faintest trace of a smile crossed his lips. "I seem to have left mine behind."

"Of course," Irvine grinned. "After all, the complimentary stuff they leave around here by the shed load just doesn't bring out the shine, does it?"

The crease between Squall's eyes eased, just a bit, and the smile got a little more convincing. "No," he said.

Irvine reached out a hand. "C'mere," he said; and then Squall was in his arms, a tight bundle of stress and anxiety just begging to be soothed. "So," he whispered, "you want to take the shampoo with you, or d'you want to shower here?"

"Not sure," said Squall. "Might need someone to scrub my back."

Irvine pushed Squall's jacket off his shoulders. "I could do that," Irvine offered, "if you like."

"Hn." Squall let the jacket fall to the floor, and pulled Irvine closer, claiming his mouth for a kiss.

Much as Irvine wanted to lay Squall on the bed and massage every last shred of tension from his beautiful body, he knew they didn't have much time. So he contented himself with stroking Squall's pale flesh as he unwrapped it from his clothes, strong fingertips soothing tight, aching muscles as best they could.

Irvine was just trying to decide whether to drag Squall off to the shower, or to do him right there and then on the bed, when the door chime went.

"Hyneandfuckandhyne," he muttered under his breath, as Squall collapsed against him with a resigned moan. "Who is it?"

"It's Selphie. Just thought you'd like to know that Kiros is looking for Squall. In case you should, er, see him…" there was a distinctly Selphie-style giggle from the other side of the door.

"OK. Thanks, Selph."

Squall reached for his discarded shirt, looking even more pissed off than he had been to start with.

"Never mind, babe," Irvine cupped Squall's face in one hand, running his thumb across his lower lip. "There's always later."

Squall nipped at Irvine's thumb with sharp white teeth. "Except you're down here," he growled, "and I'm up the other end with a fully armed guard."

"That's okay, Princess," Irvine said. "I've got into harder towers than that before, to console a damsel in distress."

Suddenly Irvine was flat on his back with Squall astride him, pinning his arms over his head and glaring down at him with eyes of steel.

"Let's get one thing straight, Kinneas," he hissed. "I am not, and nor will I ever be, your Princess."

Irvine squirmed a bit, trying to hide just how much he was enjoying the weight of Squall sitting on him.

"Alright, babe," he said. "But in that case, you've got to escape and come to me."

Squall chewed his lower lip for a moment, easing his grip on Irvine's wrists a little.

"I can do better than that," he said, eventually.

Irvine arched a brow.

"I'm going to tell Laguna," he said. "Then it won't be a problem, will it?"

Irvine blinked. He hadn't expected that.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's only been a couple of weeks, and …"

"You going to dump me, then?" There was a sparkle in Squall's eyes that made Irvine's heart leap in his chest. He knew he wouldn't. Already. He knew.

Irvine shook his head, slowly. "Not when I'm having this much fun," he said lightly, but his eyes spoke straight to Squall's. No way. I'm in this for the long haul, babe. Big time.

"Right then," Squall released his grip and sat back, leathers squeaking, a pleased and slightly triumphant smile on his face.

"Do you want me to be there? When you tell him?"

Squall shook his head. "No, it's okay. I don't think it'll bother him, do you?"

"I dunno," said Irvine. "Nobody in Balamb cares, I know, but Esthar's a bit more… repressed, you know?"

"Dad isn't from Esthar. He's Galbadian, remember? And Galbadians," Squall gave Irvine one of his more wicked looks, "are born sluts."

"Fair comment," grinned Irvine, reaching a hand up to brush Squall's bangs out of his eyes. "You called him Dad," he said, softly.

Squall shrugged. "Well, he is," he said. "No point pretending he isn't." He pulled his shirt over his head. "And I guess he's okay."

"I like him," said Irvine. "I just hope he still likes me, when he finds out I've been shagging his long-lost son."

"Hn. Well. I've gotta go," he leaned over and kissed Irvine firmly, "I'll see you later. Providing I don't get grounded."

Irvine laughed. "I'd like to see someone try."

Squall stood up and reached for his jacket. "Oh, and Irvine…" he looked down at him with just a hint of a smile.

"What, babe?"

"When you come by tonight, don't forget the shampoo, huh?"

* * * * * * *

Squall found Laguna in his office, working through a pile of papers even higher than the ones on his own desk back at Balamb. He greeted his son with a hug, which Squall accepted with only a little stiffness, and indicated he should sit down on one of the low couches that were arranged in a circle in the middle of the room. He sat opposite Squall, shoving long hair out of his eyes, regarding him with an easy grin.

"How's things?" he asked. "Commanding all those SeeDs working out alright for you?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Squall. "Um, happy birthday, by the way," he pulled a small gift box out of his jacket pocket, "I didn't know what to get you, so…"

"Wow," Laguna opened the box, taking out a small earring, set with a tiny, blue stone.

"It's a bit of an aura stone," Squall said. "It was the last one we had when we defeated the sorceress, and Zell managed to break it, somehow. So I kept the bits and… well. Hope you like it."

"Of course I do," Laguna fought the urge to hug Squall again, much as he'd have liked to. "Thank you. It means a lot." He settled for a manly pat on Squall's shoulder instead.

"Good."

"So, is it alright? Really? The Commander stuff, I mean. I know when they made me president I had this urge to run and hide the whole time, at first."

"It's okay. I've been trained for it, I guess."

"And um… with Rinoa going? Is that okay?"

Squall shifted uncomfortably, his courage fading a little in the face of all this parental concern.

"Well, about that. Um. You know I kind of split up with Rinoa, when she went away?"

"I heard," said Laguna. "You didn't exactly tell me," he added, a little reproachfully. "I was sorry. But these things don't always work out. You're both very young."

Squall treated him to a particularly icy glare. It was true, of course; he was barely eighteen. But he had seen more, done more in the last year than most people managed in a lifetime. And he had never felt young. Growing up alone and being taught to kill from the age of twelve did that to a person, he thought.

Laguna let the stare wash over him, apparently unperturbed.

"I'm with someone else, now," said Squall, quickly, before his courage deserted him altogether.

"Oh. Good. Anyone I know?"

Squall took a deep breath, and looked straight into his father's eyes.

"It's Irvine."

Surprise flickered across Laguna's face.

"Oh," he said. "Fuck me sideways."

Squall blinked.

"Sorry," Laguna recovered a little. "It's just I… well, you know, Rinoa and all. I hadn't thought…"

"It's okay," Squall was mortified to feel a blush spreading across his cheeks, "I just thought you ought to know."

"Yeah. Hey, look, it's not a problem." He paused for a moment, processing. "How long have you been seeing each other?"

"Since the winter festival," said Squall. "It's okay, then? With you?"

"What you do with your private life is nothing to do with me. But seeing as you ask, yes, actually, it is. It's fine. I like Irvine. And I just want you to be happy. You deserve that. Does he make you happy?"

Squall nodded. "Yes," he whispered, wishing he were more articulate, wishing he could tell his father - or anyone for that matter - exactly how happy and scared and good Irvine made him feel. But he wasn't. It was hard enough for him to actually believe he was feeling what he was feeling, never mind try and explain it to anyone.

It didn't seem to matter to Laguna, at any rate. He could talk plenty for the both of them, and so he did, rattling on about how tedious Estharian politics were until any awkwardness Squall felt had faded away. Laguna talked complete gibberish sometimes, but just for now, seeing something of the compassion and warm affection of the man behind the words, Squall didn't mind a bit.

* * * * * * *

By the time they'd finished dinner, however, Squall was pleased to see that Selphie and Quistis were happy to hang on to Laguna's every word, letting him off the hook some. Much as he was growing to like his father, if he never heard another story of world travel and adventure that to him seemed like a catalogue of tactical incompetence, it would be too soon.

It made it easier to slip away with Irvine when the time came; saying they wanted to walk rather than take the car back to the palace, needed the fresh air and no, they wouldn't need an escort.

As soon as the others were out of sight, Irvine grabbed Squall and kissed him hard.

"Uh... what's that for?" Squall panted.

"Do you have any idea how hot you look?" husked Irvine. "Gods, Squall, all that leather and the belts, and your hair in your eyes, and your shirt all loose here," he put one large hand over Squall's abdomen, "because your muscles are so damn tight, and," he ran his other hand down to Squall's outer thigh, "these pants zip up the sides, don't they?"

"Maybe," Squall admitted. "I hadn't noticed," he lied.

"And I haven't touched you all evening," Irvine flicked out his tongue to torment Squall's ear, "and all that leather."

"You're not looking so bad yourself," admitted Squall.

"So, you ready to have a good time?"

"No," said Squall. "I remember distinctly, you agreed I didn't have to pretend to enjoy myself."

"Oh, come on babe. Just for once. Forget about duty and world-saving and commanding stuff, and just have some fun. Please. For me?"

"Hn," Squall grunted, unconvinced.

Actually he had to admit, by the time they got there, it wasn't that bad. In fact, it felt good to be away from SeeD and responsibility and people who knew him and looked up to him. Very good.

The Torama was a relatively small, intimate club, a dancefloor lined with bars and a stage on the ground floor, with galleries above. It was full when they arrived, but not overwhelmingly so.

Irvine watched with delight as Squall finally started to relax, his usual glowering expression softened from ready-to-kill to sexily-pissed-off. He led him straight to the dance floor, brooking no resistance. Usually Squall had to be literally dragged up to dance, and even then he would scurry off at the earliest opportunity. Which was a shame, because he was really rather good at it.

This time he gave in fairly quickly, either because he knew Irvine wouldn't let him alone until he did, or maybe, for once, he felt like it. Irvine didn't question it, he just draped his arms around Squall's neck and lost himself to the beat, and to Squall's hips grinding against his, and the heat of Squall's body next to him.

He felt Squall's fingers on the bare flesh of his waist, inching round to his back, one hand dipping inside his jeans to his butt.

Gods, but Squall was a contradiction. One minute cold and uptight and stiff as an iron bar, and the next all molten passion and heat and uninhibited lust.

Irvine loved it.

Squall spent the rest of the evening driving Irvine insane; if he wasn't grinding his sex-on-legs body against Irvine's on the dance floor, he was smouldering at him with dark grey eyes through sweat-damp bangs that clung to his face, the shadows emphasising perfect cheek bones and jawline. When he drank, he had a habit of running his tongue around the rim of the glass as if he were kissing it, looking at Irvine all the while, apparently innocent of just what he was doing that made Irvine feel weak at the knees.

Irvine realised he was ridiculously proud to be with him. Unlike Squall, he noticed the looks they attracted, and while he was used to getting a fair amount of attention himself, it was clear that it was Squall who would be appearing in a fair number of Estharian fantasies that night, male and female alike. Squall, who was grinding his body against Irvine's, with the leather pants and the sexiest ass in the universe, and the strong, bare arms and the hair falling in his eyes…

"I've got to have you," Irvine breathed into his ear, eventually. "Now. Here. Anywhere. Just. Now."

Squall looked at him with big eyes. "Where can we go?" he mouthed.

Irvine grinned.

"Follow me…"

He led Squall away from the dance floor, and nodded to the girl behind the bar. She grinned at him, a little enviously, and gave him a plastic card.

Squall shot him a puzzled look, but Irvine just took his hand and led him up the spiral staircase, through the crowds in the gallery above, and finally to a blue-painted door.

He swiped the card through the slot, and the door opened. He pulled Squall swiftly inside, and it clicked shut behind them.

The room was full of pillows and cushions, a large futon in the centre swathed in cotton and silk. There was champagne on ice, and candles and a bottle of elixir, and the steady pounding of music vibrating through the walls.

Squall suddenly looked a little overwhelmed.

Irvine took no notice, pulling him down onto the futon and kissing him deep, chasing thought away. Squall relaxed into his arms, pressing his body against Irvine's and moaning softly; Irvine moved his mouth over Squall's with practised ease, tasting peppermint and Squall, unique flavours, becoming familiar.

They undressed each other bit by bit, impatient to be naked, but at the same time wanting to make the anticipation last. Irvine spent a long time toying with the zips and buckles on Squall's pants, teasing mercilessly, claiming revenge for the power Squall had held over him on the dance floor.

Squall grabbed the elixir and poured liberal quantities over Irvine's smooth chest and belly, spreading it in wide circles, licking Irvine's nipples, feeling the fizz on his tongue. Irvine threw his head back, relishing the caress of Squall's fingers on his naked skin, working their way down now, lingering to tickle his belly button until finally he took Irvine's cock in his slender grasp, spreading elixir and Irvine's own precome over the whole aching length of him.

Irvine growled and rolled Squall over onto his back, catching the elixir just before Squall dropped it. He knelt between his thighs, holding the bottle high to cascade a multicoloured waterfall down onto Squall's cock and balls, watching as Squall rocked his hips up to encourage it to flow down the crack of his ass.

Irvine groaned, sinking first one and then two fingers inside Squall's body, stretching him, watching Squall's cock twitch as he reached his prostate.

"Want you," came Squall's voice, raw with need, "inside, now. Now."

Irvine took a moment to take in the sight in front of him: pale skin over tight muscle, slender hips rocking as Squall fucked his fingers, lips glistening and slightly parted, revealing pink tongue-tip, damp, dark hair falling back from cloudy grey eyes.

"Gods, Squall, you're just so…"

"Now, Irvine. Please. Now."

Irvine slowly removed his fingers and positioned his rock-hard cock at the entrance to Squall's body.

"Mine," Irvine whispered, as he pushed inside, through faint resistance and beyond, until he was buried completely in Squall's hot, tight body. He gave Squall the barest moment to adjust to being filled before he started to move: long, deep strokes, taking Squall's twitching erection in his hand and pumping in time with his thrusts.

He used every trick he knew to make it last; pausing, changing their rhythm, just letting his mind go blank. Finally, though, the sight of Squall as he arched his back and came, spurting ropes of white come laced with the rainbow of elixir, across his pale belly and chest; that was enough to push Irvine over the edge. He flooded Squall over and over, crushing silk sheets in his hands, Squall's wet lips and tongue on his face. He thrust the last few spurts into Squall's body as he kissed him, pure, wonderful, breathtaking pleasure.

"Oh babe… fuck, it just gets better and better…"

"Mmm…" Squall didn't seem to be capable of thinking, let alone talking. His face was a picture of bliss; eyes closed, pale skin flushed pink with pleasure, lips curved in the smile Irvine would slay a thousand sorceresses for.

He watched Squall for a while, eventually rolling off him to open the champagne. Squall came to at the sound of the cork popping, scooting round to catch the drips on his tongue as Irvine poured foam into glasses.

"Well," said Irvine, sitting back on his heels and taking a gulp of champagne, relishing the bubbles bursting on his tongue; "for an uptight Balamb SeeD who wasn't going to have a good time, you came like a true Galbadian."

"There's a reason for that," said Squall, wrapping himself around Irvine, licking a line down the side of his thigh. "In fact, two reasons."

"Yeah?" he threaded fingers through Squall's hair, "what?"

"Well, for one thing, I only said I wouldn't pretend to enjoy myself. And I didn't have to pretend. I really did enjoy myself. A lot. And secondly," he flicked out his tongue to lick the end of Irvine's cock, still hard as ever, "I am Galbadian."

"What?" Irvine tried to get his brain to work that one out, but it was hiding in a haze of lust somewhere.

"Laguna's Galbadian, and Raine was Galbadian, too. I was born in Winhill. Sure, I was raised in Centra and Balamb, but…" he settled his head in Irvine's lap, looking up at him with bright silver eyes, "I guess you're just bringing my true nature out."

Irvine grinned. He liked that idea.

He liked it a lot.

 

* * * * * * *

Out in the club, Cass dried glasses, relieved that her shift was nearly over. Her feet hurt, and she was tired of smiling and encouraging other people to have a good time. Even the rare sight of Irvine Kinneas hadn't cheered her up for long. Although that hot piece of leather-clad ass with him was a bonus…

Someone was watching her, she realised, all of a sudden.

"Where'd they go?" A woman stood in front of her, blonde hair tumbling in waves over one scantily clad shoulder.

"Who?"

"Kinneas and his slut. They out back?"

"They left," said Cass, clinking more glasses into the sink.

"I don't think they did."

Cass shrugged.

"There's a thousand Gil for you if you tell me where they are."

"If they're still here," Cass said, slowly, "why don't you just wait for them out here?"

"I have to be somewhere. Look, I have a message for Kinneas, that's all."

"Leave it with me, then. I'll pass it on. If I see them."

"It's not that kind of message."

She looked up sharply. "What do you want with them? Who are you, exactly?"

"Alright, then." The stranger held Cass's gaze with piercing blue eyes. "Tell them the sorceress has returned. And," she leaned over the counter, so Cass caught a haze of expensive perfume, "she's going to kick their sorry butts to hell."

Then she was gone. Cass felt something warm and wet on her hand.

She hadn't even felt the glass break.


	2. Lie

Irvine woke to the smell of clean sheets, his nose nuzzled into Squall's soft hair. It took him a while to register where they were; the usual hum of Garden was replaced by the absolute quiet of the Presidential palace, no windows to let in sunlight, just the muted violet glow of the night light.

He yawned, and snuggled under the covers. He felt as though he'd slept for a long time, and still it wasn't long enough.

Squall made a contented little noise, and wriggled himself comfortably into Irvine's side. It was bliss. In the fourteen mornings that Irvine had woken up next to Squall, this was the first time that they had actually managed to contemplate anything that might be called a lie-in, and Irvine intended to make full use of it, firstly with a pleasant doze, and secondly with a lazy hour or two of unhurried lovemaking.

The door chime sounded.

Irvine's plan dissolved as Squall cursed, instantly awake and already climbing out of bed.

"Babe," Irvine protested weakly. "Ignore it."

"Can't," muttered Squall, pulling on Irvine's jeans and looking confused when he realised they were inexplicably too long.

Irvine grinned, and pointed to the leather pants Squall had been wearing the night before, which had been slung carelessly over the foot of the bed. Squall glared briefly, and threw Irvine's jeans at him.

The lucky person to receive an eyefull of shirtless and rumpled Squall Leonhart at the door turned out to be one of Laguna's army of assistants, who blushed to her roots.

"Yes?" said Squall.

"Sorry to bother you, Commander, but there's someone to see Irvine Kinneas," she informed him in a somewhat trembly voice. "I was told I might find him here?"

Now it was Squall's turn to blush. Only a very little bit, but a blush nonetheless. "Yes," he said, his eyes flickering involuntarily across the apartment towards the bedroom. "He's. . . I'll tell him. Who is it?"

"She didn't leave a name, Commander. She said it was urgent. Shall I send her up or tell her to wait in the reception area?"

"Tell her to wait," said Squall, brusquely.

"Yes Commander. Anything else?" She stood straight and gave him an odd little Estharian salute.

"No." Squall remembered his manners somewhere through the fog of recent sleep that still addled his brain. "Thanks."

She nodded, and took her leave.

Squall padded back to the bedroom, trying to identify the bewildering array of feelings that were warring in his foggy mind, without much success. There were definite hints of a hangover, though: he was thirsty, and his head hurt a little.

"There's a woman downstairs for you," he told Irvine.

Irvine stretched and yawned again. "What?" he drawled, sleepily. "Who?"

"Didn't say." Squall looked about him, still a little bemused. "Time?"

Irvine peered at the clock by the bed, which was a strange contortion of pale pink plastic upon which no numbers were immediately apparent. Irvine often found Estharian technology baffling, a strange combination of astounding science and very strange aesthetics. He reached for his watch instead. "Nine," he said. "You don't have to get up. Let me deal with it, and I'll be right back."

Squall shrugged, peering into his closet for a clean shirt. "I'm up now," he said. "May as well come with you, then go to that meeting Laguna was talking about. It's a good opportunity to see how Martine's coping with Galbadia."

Irvine sighed, and dragged himself out of bed, the vision of a precious lie-in snatched away from him. "Whoever it is, it had better be important," he complained.

"She didn't want to give her name," said Squall, frowning as he did up the buttons on his soft grey shirt. "Probably one of your girlfriends," he said, and shoved his shirt-tails into his pants, blinking at them as he slowly realised that zip-up-the-side-leather trousers weren't the kind of thing that made people like Martine take a young Commander seriously.

"Hey!" Irvine protested, coming up behind him and sliding his arms around Squall's waist. "Ex girlfriend, at most." He nuzzled his nose behind Squall's ear, kissed his neck. "I'm all yours, remember."

"Hn," grunted Squall. "Get off, Irvine, I'm trying to get dressed."

"Sorry, Commander, that's not a course of action I would ever endorse," he said, tightening his hold.

"Have you been reading combat manuals again?" Squall gave up an admittedly half-hearted attempt to remove Irvine's arms from his midriff. "Because what you mean is you prefer me naked, right?"

Irvine gave a little chuckle, and pressed his groin, complete with morning wood, against Squall's butt. "Yeah. Or in leather." He ran one hand appreciatively over Squall's thigh, bringing it to rest just short of the growing bulge in his pants.

"That's a good thing, I suppose," said Squall. "If you're actually reading, I mean. You might not flunk command tactics next time."

"Ouch, that hurt," said Irvine, deftly undoing the shirt buttons Squall had just so carefully fastened. "We can't all be born leaders, you know."

Squall leaned back into Irvine's body with a resigned little moan. "Oh, I don't think you're entirely without leadership qualities," he said. "You just lack discipline, is all."

"Is that so?" Irvine drawled, nudging Squall's hair to one side and trailing tongue and lips up his bare neck, slowly pulling the shirt off his shoulders.

"Yes," said Squall, slapping a hand firmly on each of Irvine's. "And restraint. You lack restraint, too. And," he pulled Irvine's arms off him, and shrugged his shirt back on, "there's a woman waiting for you downstairs."

"I don't want a woman," said Irvine, petulantly. "I want you."

"Hn." Squall went back to rummaging in the closet, looking for trousers this time. Possibly even underwear.

Irvine sat back on the edge of the bed, and grabbed his jeans.

"Alright then," he said. "I'll come to the meeting with you."

"No need. Commander stuff. Take Selphie shopping or something."

"Don't wanna. Wanna be with you." Irvine pouted, violet eyes twinkling, and saw a glimpse of a smile on Squall's face in response.

"Sorry," he said. "It's the job. You know how it is."

_You didn't even mention any stupid meeting last night_, thought Irvine. But he didn't say anything.

"Alright," he said. "We'll have time for a shower, though, after we've seen whoever this is, won't we?" he asked, brightening a little at the idea. Maybe if he distracted Squall with a little soapy fun the meeting would disappear back down the agenda and he could get his lie-in after all.

"Just a quick one," said Squall, doing up the last of his belts with a squeak of leather against the clasp. "And that would be a quick _shower_," he added.

Irvine pulled last night's vest shirt over his head irritably.

First some mystery woman demanding to see him, and now Squall in recalcitrant commander mode.

This wasn't Irvine's idea of a good morning at all.

* * * * * * *

Irvine didn't recognise Cass at first. She was slowly pacing the small exhibition of paintings which lined the walls of the reception area. Dressed in old jeans and an over-large button down shirt, her honey blonde hair in a neat braid down her back, and dark glasses perched on the top of her head, she looked unusually serious and respectable. Her face was pale, her eyes shadowed.

Then she noticed him striding towards her and smiled, bringing her friendly, open face to life, and he realised who it was.

"Cass," he said, warmly, kissing her lightly on both cheeks. "What're you doing here?"

"Hi," she returned his kisses, resting her hands softly on his shoulders as she did so. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" she said, looking curiously over Irvine's shoulder at a glowering Squall.

"Sorry," said Irvine. "This is Squall Leonhart. Commander of Balamb Garden. And my . . . Commander," he finished lamely, off Squall's disapproving look.

Cass gave a low whistle as she extended her hand; Squall shook it firmly, glaring at her. "Nice to meet you," she said. Her voice was deep, and husky from long hours shouting over the noise of a busy club.

Squall muttered something that might have been 'whatever'.

"I saw you at the club last night," she said, warmly. "Remember?"

"Oh." A faint blush ran up Squall's cheeks, and one corner of his mouth twitched into an almost-smile. "Oh, yeah. Hi. Um, if you want to speak to Irvine alone, I could. . ."

A shadow passed across her pretty face, her amber eyes clouded. "No, that's okay," she said. "If you're Squall Leonhart, you probably ought to hear this too."

"What's wrong, Cass?" Irvine indicated the huddle of low couches around a table in the centre of the room, and they went to sit down.

"Someone dropped by the club last night, while you were in the back room," she said, taking the sunglasses off her head and folding them neatly in her lap. "They said they had a message for you."

"Okay," said Irvine. "What was it?"

"She wouldn't tell me at first," said Cass, her voice low. "She wanted to see you personally."

"I'm glad you didn't oblige." Irvine tried to sneak a possessive arm around Squall's shoulders, but Squall shrugged it off. He still looked embarrassed, Irvine realised, and a little mad, for some reason.

"You know I wouldn't do that, Kinneas," she said, with a grin. "Not even when she offered me a thousand Gil."

"So what was the message?" asked Squall, crisply.

Cass dragged her eyes away from Irvine, and tried another smile on Squall. She didn't get any response at all this time. She sighed. "It was more of a threat, than a message, really. She said to tell you the sorceress has returned. And was. . . well, coming to get you."

Irvine laughed.

"What did she look like?" asked Squall, frowning.

"Medium height. Blonde. Beautiful, if you like the busty lipgloss look. Blue eyes. Bad attitude."

"She probably wanted to get in your pants, Squall," said Irvine. "Her and the rest of the club."

Squall shot him an annoyed look. "Shut up, Irvine."

Irvine took a deep breath. Whatever had happened this morning to put Squall into such a foul mood, it was getting old fast. "She must be a crank. We get lots of that," he explained to Cass. "Since Ultimecia. Everyone wants to test out the old Leonhart magic. See if he's as tough as he thinks he is. We had a guy the other week who swore he'd grown sorceress wings overnight." Irvine shook his head sadly. "We had to talk him down from a very tall tree."

"She gave me the creeps, that's all I know." Cass shuddered.

"Did she hurt you?" Irvine nodded towards the clean, white bandage on Cass's hand.

"This? Oh, no, I just cut myself on a glass," said Cass, with a little shrug. "Occupational hazard."

"I'm sorry you had to deal with her," said Irvine. "Whoever she is. Thanks for telling us, but don't worry about it. I can promise you, the sorceress is definitely dead."

"No she isn't," snapped Squall. "There's more than one sorceress in the world. Did this woman say which one?"

Cass frowned. "No, she didn't. I just assumed. . ."

"Rinoa's not here," said Irvine gently. "She's off on a mission to uncover her mystic birthright, remember?"

"I know that," said Squall. "I didn't mean. . ."

"And even if she wasn't," Irvine carried on, "I don't think she'd be sending minions to harass us. That's not her style at all. Yelling and hitting is much more Rinoa's way of doing things. And besides, she's our friend," he finished. "She's no reason to hate us, or turn evil, or. . ."

"I didn't mean Rinoa," interrupted Squall. "I was just saying there's been more than one sorceress. And yes, she does have a reason, actually."

They caught each others' gaze; Irvine's soft, confused, Squall's hard and glaring.

Cass looked from one to the other of them, sensing something going on here under the surface that they probably didn't want her be witness to. "Um," she said, shuffling to the edge of her seat, "I should go. I just thought you'd want to know."

Irvine dragged his eyes from Squall's and gave her an apologetic smile. "Of course. Thanks Cass." They pulled themselves to their feet, Irvine reaching out a hand to help her up. "If she comes back, tell us, okay? We're here for a few days, at least."

Cass nodded. "I really hope she doesn't," she said. "But I'll keep in touch."

"Thanks," said Squall, his eyes fired to silver, glittering dangerously through his bangs.

"You're welcome," said Cass, cautiously. "See you at the club again, maybe?"

"I doubt it," said Squall.

Irvine ignored that, and gave Cass a swift hug goodbye. He took a few calming breaths as he watched her go, knowing that his own anger would be the last thing that would get Squall out of this mood.

"What's up, babe?" he asked, as soon as he could trust himself to speak.

"Nothing," said Squall. "I'm going to get a shower." He stalked off towards the elevator.

"You sure I can't help you with that?" Irvine strode after him.

Squall didn't answer.

"Squall, love, what's wrong?" They stood waiting for the lift; Irvine put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing." Squall shrugged him off.

"Is it Rinoa?" Irvine suggested cautiously. "Only. . ."

"Will you shut up about Rinoa?" hissed Squall through clenched teeth, refusing to meet Irvine's gaze. "I've no idea what you're talking about. There's nothing wrong."

The lift arrived with a loud ping, and its doors swooshed open. It was an enclosed lift, unusual for Estharians, who seemed to like to transport themselves encased in semi-opaque pink plastic, for the most part. Or sometimes not encased at all. Irvine shuddered. He liked reassuring, solid walls around him, and all the privacy they afforded. Which this particular lift, for whatever reason, did. He could even forgive it the pale pink carpeted walls, at a push.

There was no-one else in it. That was another point in its favour.

As soon as the door shut, Irvine slid his arms around Squall's waist, pleased when he didn't pull away, even if his body was somewhat rigid and unyielding. "Can we start again?" he asked. "I can't get over the feeling we got out of the wrong side of bed this morning. I'm sorry if I said something stupid. I don't want to fight."

"I'm not fighting," said Squall, and to Irvine's relief, he hugged him back, albeit a little stiffly.

"That's good," said Irvine, nuzzling into Squall's neck. "You smell good."

"I need a shower," grumped Squall, but his body started to relax under Irvine's touch.

"I can still smell the shampoo from last night," said Irvine, smiling to himself at the memory of soaping down Squall's pale and willing body on their return from the club. He flicked his tongue at Squall's earlobe. "You taste good, too."

Squall hmphed, but he also slid one hand inside Irvine's shirt, pressing fingers into the strong muscles of his lower back.

"Oh babe," murmured Irvine, and claimed Squall's mouth for a kiss.

He reached behind him, and surreptitiously pressed the stop button. The elevator shook to a halt.

"What the. . ." Squall's eyes flashed open and he glared at the control panel.

"Damn elevators," muttered Irvine, once again undoing Squall's shirt buttons. "Must be stuck."

"Stuck?" Squall's eyes narrowed. "What d'you mean, stuck?"

Irvine pointed to the little dial that indicated which floor they were on. The needle flickered, half way between two and three. "Stuck. There's a phone, shall I see how long they're gonna be?"

Irvine turned to the elevator controls, without waiting for an answer. As he staged a conversation with a mythical engineer on the other end of the undialled phone, he checked over his shoulder to make sure Squall wasn't watching too closely, then punched a series of numbers into the keypad.

He owed Selphie for many things, and teaching him how to hack an Estharian elevator was, thankfully, one of them. Having disabled the intercom, among other things, Irvine hung up the phone and turned back to Squall.

"He says it could be an hour," he said. "Sorry, babe. Looks like you're gonna miss that meeting after all."

"Crap." Squall rested his shoulders against the pinkly-carpeted wall, hair falling into his smouldering eyes, his shirt half undone and pulled out of his uniform pants. The sight of him took Irvine's breath away. "Stupid fucking pink technology."

"Yeah, it's a shame," said Irvine unconvincingly, standing in front of him, leaning on one arm braced on the wall by Squall's head. "Just think, you could be at some boring meeting with Martine, when actually you're stuck in this nice, warm elevator with me."

Squall blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, only for it to flop back down again. He still looked pissed off, but there was a different kind of spark there too. One that Irvine liked the look of a whole lot more.

"What d'you say?" Irvine brushed his lips lightly over the sensitive, freshly-shaved skin of Squall's jaw. "Fancy something to make the time go quicker?"

"What, here? In public?"

"It's not public," said Irvine. "There's no-one here but us. Besides. . . oh, come on Squall," he fastened his hand to Squall's hip, pushing his lower body firmly into the wall, and nibbled his bottom lip. "It's an elevator. We have to have sex in an elevator. It's a classic."

Squall looked doubtful.

"Everyone does it," murmured Irvine, "and you're so hot, and I want you so bad. . ."

"Everyone?" queried Squall.

"Everyone." Irvine held still, watching him. "Trust me."

The pulse at Squall's throat was quick, his breathing was faster. "Then I guess you get your way after all, Kinneas," he panted, his eyes steady on Irvine's.

Irvine suppressed the smug grin that wanted to appear on his face, and moved in to resume their kiss. Squall was responding with enthusiasm now, no trace left of the moodiness he seemed to have woken up with. Irvine took full advantage of this change of affairs, pressing his thigh between Squall's legs, sweeping inside his mouth with his tongue, pushing his hair back from his face.

"Feels good," Squall informed him, sliding his fingers under the waistband of Irvine's jeans and teasing from the nub of his tailbone down between his buttocks.

Irvine sucked his breath in sharply, pushing even more firmly against the hard ridge in Squall's pants. He considered his options: he really wanted that shirt off, mostly as a matter of principle; he wanted to take Squall's cock in his mouth and suck the come out of him; he wanted to fuck him raw against this stupid pink carpet; he wanted to come all over that beautiful, pale flesh, and watch Squall rub his essence into his skin.

So many possibilities. So much Leonhart. So little time.

"Fuck me, Irvine. Want you inside. Want to feel you all day. Inside me."

Well, that made the choice a whole lot easier.

"My pleasure, babe."

Squall started to undo his belts and pants; for a minute Irvine considered slowing things down a bit. But only for a minute. The sight of Squall's strong thighs emerging from the boring uniform, and the large bulge in his underwear, were enough to persuade Irvine that the foreplay could wait for another time. Maybe as seconds.

He cupped Squall's balls through the soft cotton, weighing them appreciatively in one hand, popping the buttons of his own jeans with the other. Squall kissed him, flicking his tongue over the edge of Irvine's teeth, and helped to pull Irvine's erection free, twisting his strong fingers around it, gasping into Irvine's mouth.

"Lube," he breathed. "You got lube?"

_Dammit_. Irvine realised he didn't have any. Or rather, he had a tub in his room, a tube in his duster pocket, another tub in Squall's room. But none here in the elevator, at all. Not a drop.

"Hang on babe." He looked frantically around him for anything at all he could. . . ah. Just the thing.

"What?" a flicker of confusion crossed Squall's face, and Irvine moved fast, before the mood was lost altogether. He abandoned Squall for a moment, and flipped open the little door under the control panel. There, sure enough, was an emergency first aid kit.

"Irvine, what are you doing?"

"Improvising," said Irvine, pulling a little vial out of the kit. "This'll do."

"What is it?" asked Squall, curiously. He'd managed to lose his underwear while Irvine had been conducting his search, and stood leaning against the wall, one hand cupped around his erection, stroking it absently, unselfconsciously, just moving the foreskin gently back and forth. Irvine felt his own cock twitch in response, and threw himself on his knees in front of Squall, vial in hand. He kissed up one thigh, pushed Squall's hand out of the way with his nose, and took him into his mouth with a moan. There was a thud as Squall threw his head back against the wall, eyes closed, fingers clenched in Irvine's hair.

Irvine tipped a little of the contents of the vial onto his middle finger, and sought out Squall's entrance.

Squall groaned, parting his thighs and tilting his hips forwards to give Irvine better access, and then Irvine felt the whole of his body shiver as he made contact. He worked his finger steadily inside, suckling on Squall's cock all the while.

Suddenly Squall made a strangled noise, pulling Irvine's hair, jerking his cock out of his mouth.

"Irvine. . . fuck, Irvine, stop, don't want to come yet, no. . ."

Irvine obediently let him go, grinning up at him. "Good?"

"Shit, it's. . . what _is_ that stuff?"

"Well, I thought it was elixir. But it seems to be a little stronger." He sniffed the bottle, dripped a little on his tongue. "Yep. It's megalixir."

"Irvine! That's such a. . . waste."

"Not a waste," Irvine dribbled a little over the head of Squall's cock, watching the lines of blue and purple liquid stream down the shaft, glittering and pulsing. Squall's cock twitched, the head purple and leaking, his balls clenching tight. For a moment Irvine thought he was going to come right there and then. "Looks like a damn good use of the stuff to me," he murmured.

"Now, Irvine," Squall dared to touch himself, ever so lightly, just enough to work the magical fluid into his cock, gasping at the feel of it.

Irvine slicked his own shaft with trembling hands, forcing himself to breath deeply. It felt unbelievable. Every nerve ending sprang to life, every tiny movement was magnified a thousand times, his dick felt like one huge mass of good. It all felt good. Impossibly, wonderfully good.

He picked Squall up and wedged him against the wall, lifted his legs and pushed inside him, much faster than he'd intended to.

Squall's eyes went wide as Irvine's cock spread the megalixir around his insides, and then across his prostate, and suddenly he didn't dare touch his cock any more.

"Gods, Irvine, that's. . . gods. . ."

It was too much; it was all going to be over much too fast. Irvine pumped as slowly as he could, but he was lost to sweet friction; he brushed the very tip of Squall's cock with the back of his hand by accident and that was enough. Squall clung to him as he came, sticky heat over Irvine's hand, his anus clamping down on Irvine's cock, his whole body trembling. Irvine held still, stroking and soothing Squall's pulsing shaft, his face buried in Squall's neck, until his lover had finished.

"Oh, man," he murmured, and raised his head, drew his hand to his lips and lapped the glorious mixture of come and megalixir from his skin. Squall groaned, his eyes still closed, face flushed, panting, and started to rock his hips, encouraging Irvine to move again.

Irvine obliged, thrusting in long, steady strokes, each one feeling as if it had to be the last. He counted them, every one of them a testament to his restraint; he managed ten before he lost control. He cried out, voice so raw he could feel the sound tearing at his throat; he felt Squall tickle his face with a flurry of soft kisses; he felt the slick, tingling walls of Squall's rectum rub against every single bit of his cock, from head to root. Irvine's body clenched so tight he thought for a moment he'd never be able to let it go, and then his balls fired, forcing his come up his shaft and into Squall's body. He pulled back to thrust again with each blast, the pleasure of the friction against his over-sensitive skin almost painful, exquisite. He felt Squall's arms around his neck, Squall's lips brushing his ear, heard him cry out and realised his lover was coming again, his cock hard and pulsing in Irvine's hand.

Irvine's hips jerked the last few drops of come into Squall's body, and he rested his forehead on the pink carpet by Squall's head, breathing hard. His balls were still throbbing, pushing the last few dribbles out of his cock. Every tiny movement inside Squall was a bright rasp of skin on skin so bright that he didn't think he could bear to pull out of him.

He had no choice, as it happened; Squall's back reminded him abruptly of the strain their position was putting on him, and his legs slipped from Irvine's waist with a gasp to land on the floor, ejecting Irvine from his body all at once. Irvine cried out, the sensation almost painful, and sank to his knees, resting his cheek against Squall's sticky, softening cock, feeling the pulse of blood returning to Squall's body, snaking his tongue out to taste the second sweet rush of come, thinner, sweeter than the first, still fizzing with healing potion.

He wondered if he'd ever have a coherent thought again.

"Irvine." The moment shattered at the sound of Squall's icy voice; Irvine felt the shift of his lover's body, his hips resisting Irvine's gentle clasp. Irvine rocked back to sit on his heels and looked up, confused.

Squall was staring at the elevator control panel.

"Squall? Honey?" he croaked.

"You stopped the elevator." Squall glared at him, shoved at his shoulder none to gently, pushing him away.

"Hey!" Irvine protested. He tried, in vain, to get his brain to work, and to keep his balance, and failed on both counts. He flung an arm behind him and caught himself from falling backwards; Squall ignored him, savagely pulling on his underwear with something that approached disgust. Irvine blinked at him.

"You're such a dickhead sometimes, Irvine."

"What?" Some semblance of logic started to percolate through Irvine's mind. Squall knew he'd stopped the lift on purpose. Squall was mad. Squall had called him a . . . "What?!"

"You heard me."

"You're mad at me."

Squall gave him a withering look. "You think?"

"Why?"

Squall zipped up his pants so fast it made Irvine's eyes water. "Well, let me think. I missed a really important meeting just so you could get your rocks off in a stupid pink elevator, and you lied to me."

"So that was just me getting off, was it?" Irvine got to his feet, stuffing his cock back into his jeans, scrubbing as the streak of drying come on his nose with the back of one hand. "Funny, I could've sworn there were two of us going at it there."

"You lied to me. About the elevator. You tricked me." Squall's fingers twitched shirt buttons into place, a muscle pulsing in one smooth cheek.

"Okay. I'm sorry, Squall. But you just need to lighten up a bit sometimes, y'know? You were so tense and. . ."

"Just get the lift moving, Kinneas," said Squall coldly.

"Okay." Irvine crossed to the control panel and tapped numbers. The panel beeped at him. "Shit. Dammit, I can't remember. . ."

"You'd better fucking remember. And clear up the med kit while you're there."

"Yes, Commander," Irvine muttered angrily, jabbing at the keypad again. It gave another beep, an altogether friendlier version this time, and the elevator lurched into life.

He left the intercom off, though. Just in case.

One look at Squall told him he was in serious trouble here. Every inch of him was looking pissed off: from his sullen pose, leaning against the wall, to the smouldering eyes, which he was keeping stubbornly averted from Irvine, fixing them grimly on the elevator doors.

Irvine carefully put the med kit back in it's little cubby hole, making a mental note to replace the megalixir at the first opportunity. The thought sent a shiver through his body, remembering the feel of the magical liquid soaking into his skin, a million harmless explosions over his sensitive flesh. . . "You have to admit, though, that shit feels real good, huh Squall?"

"It's a stupid extravagance," said Squall. "It was irresponsible." The Commander voice.

The elevator came to a smooth stop.

Irvine stared at him, surprised and hurt. "So you'd rather I'd fucked you raw, is that it? Because you were the one who wanted so badly to be fucked, if I remember."

Irvine turned back to the opening doors, to find himself face to face with another of Laguna's assistants.

"Are you okay?" she said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Did it get stuck?"

Irvine blinked.

"Yes," said Squall, pushing past Irvine and into the corridor. "But it's fine now."

"Uh. . ." Irvine gazed at Squall's rapidly retreating back in disbelief. "What?" He managed to galvanise his body into action and raced after him, grabbing one arm and pulling Squall round to face him. "Squall, what the fuck's going on here?"

Squall's eyes burned into him, his biceps clenched under Irvine's grip. "Let go of me _now_."

Irvine looked at him for a long moment, before he relaxed his hold and let his hand fall slowly to his side.

"What's this about, Squall? It's not just the elevator, is it?"

"It's not about anything. Leave me alone."

"Squall, don't. . ."

"What if she heard you? That girl back there, when the elevator opened? Doesn't it bother you at all, that she might have heard you say you. . . what you did?" There was genuine worry in Squall's eyes, behind the cold rage.

"What if she did?" said Irvine. "Does it matter? It's none of her business." Squall was chewing on his bottom lip, his hair in his eyes; it occurred to Irvine that maybe he was just embarrassed. "Okay. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about your stupid meeting and all, really I am. I got carried away. It was bad of me." Irvine reached out to brush the hair back, but his hand got batted away.

"For fuck's sake, not here, Irvine," Squall hissed.

Irvine frowned. "What d'you mean, not here?"

"Exactly what I said. Someone might see us. And it's not a stupid meeting. It's my job. I'm the Commander of Balamb Garden, I have appearances to keep up."

"You don't want people to know about us." Irvine spoke slowly, as the thoughts rolled out in his mind. "You don't want me touching you in public. You want to lie about us," Irvine spoke slowly, his voice deep and soft. "You're ashamed of me," he said, horrified.

"Don't be stupid." Squall looked uncertain, uncomfortable; he couldn't look Irvine in the eye.

"You are, aren't you?" Irvine stared at Squall in disbelief. "Is it because I'm a man? You worried they'll call you names?" He tried to check the scorn in his voice, but he was too hurt, too angry, too damn confused by all of this to think straight.

"It's nothing to do with being ashamed of you, or of being bi, or gay, or whatever I am," said Squall quietly. "It's everything to do with me being the Commander of Balamb Garden and needing people to take me seriously."

"And you think they won't take you seriously if you're with me." Irvine felt sick, all of a sudden. He found himself backing away a couple of steps.

"They won't take me seriously if they think I'm behaving like a lovesick teenager," said Squall, his eyes darting up the corridor towards his rooms. Planning escape.

"I don't think there's any danger of you doing that, is there?" said Irvine, bitterly. "That would imply far more emotion than you're capable of showing."

Irvine's words hung in the air for a moment, just long enough for him to start wanting to snatch them back. Then Squall started to walk down the corridor, without another word, or gesture, or look in Irvine's direction.

"Fuck it, Squall, don't walk away from me!"

"I have a meeting," said Squall, pausing with his hand on the door to his room. "And I'm already late."

Irvine watched in disbelief as Squall opened the door and quietly went inside. It closed behind him with a soft click.

He paused for a moment, about to follow, but he stopped himself. His hands were trembling; he was furious. He felt dirty and sticky, inside and out, and the tiny part of his mind that still had some semblance of rationality to it was telling him to leave Squall until they'd both cooled off.

Irvine turned on his heel and stormed off in the direction of his own room, longing for the comforting heat of Balamb's Training Centre, and something evil to kill.

* * * * * * *

Squall tried to concentrate on Martine's droning voice, but it was proving impossible.

Damn Irvine for distracting him like this. He needed to make a good impression on Martine. The man had little enough respect for him as it was. He was a quarter-century older than Squall, and referred to the fact whenever he could.

For someone who was on a quest for redemption, thought Squall, Martine was an arrogant bastard. Squall had no idea how Irvine had put up with him for all those years. Although, from what Irvine had told him of his days at Galbadia Garden, there had been plenty of distractions, so maybe he hadn't come into contact with his Head of Garden as often as Squall had. Maybe that's why he was so damn irresponsible and had so little respect for authority. Which, Squall had to admit, was part of Irvine's charm. That mile-wide hedonistic streak that made every day a new and exciting adventure.

Squall was swiftly reminded of the elevator. It was hard to forget: it had been absolutely incredible. The feeling of the megalixir in his ass when Irvine had. . .

"So you are planning to rebuild Trabia Garden, I take it?"

Squall opened his mouth, but no sound came out. For a moment, he couldn't even remember where Trabia was.

"Of course," Laguna came to his rescue. "But we need to raise funds. The war was expensive for all of us, and Gardens don't come cheap. Without Norg's support, Cid and Edea are stumped."

"Which means? How are you going to raise that amount of cash, exactly, Squall? Jumble sales?" Martine's mouth twisted into a supercilious smile. "Or you could open Balamb as a theme park."

Squall glared at him, his dislike hardening for a moment to icy hatred. "We'll make money like we always do," he said. "We'll take missions."

"Well," Martine steepled his fingers, leaning his elbows on the table and meeting Squall's stare with one of his own, nearly as icy. "That's a fine idea, except we seem to have peace breaking out all over. No wars, no need for mercenaries. You've dug yourself a hole, Leonhart. People are so pleased about the sorceress that they can't be bothered to squabble with each other any more."

"Really?" Squall was aware of Laguna trying to catch his eye, but ignored him. "I thought there were still at least three underground factions in Galbadia trying to usurp the new President. But maybe you hadn't heard."

The sparkle went out of Martine's eyes at that, and Squall chalked himself a point. "I think you'll find I can deal with my own domestic affairs," said Martine.

"Yes," said Laguna, jumping in before Squall could reply. "I'm sure you can. But meanwhile, I have a proposition for you. For both of you."

Two steely pairs of eyes focused on him. Laguna looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights for a moment, but swiftly recovered. "I need your help," he said. "Esthar suffered, more than anywhere, from the lunar cry. The monsters can't threaten the City, but they're every damn where else, and we need to expand. I want to commission the Gardens to do an extensive clean up operation. And in return, we will build you a new Trabia."

Squall swallowed hard. His thoughts were dominated for a second by a sudden and glorious image: Selphie's face on hearing the news that her beloved Garden could, after all, be rebuilt. He actually had to stop himself from flinging his arms around Laguna's neck and yelling 'thank you, Daddy!' Well, metaphorically, at any rate.

The thought startled him completely silent for a moment.

"Keeping it in the family, then, Loire?" Martine drawled. "Nice of you to give the boy a helping hand."

Squall fought to keep his face neutral. The fact that he'd thought the same thing didn't help; the one thing he had over Martine was some kind of moral superiority, and he didn't want to lose it. "It's an interesting offer," he said. "We'll certainly think about it. Won't we, Martine?" He was careful not to look at Laguna, keeping his gaze trained on Martine. The Commander of Galbadia Garden looked right back at him, with some kind of unspoken challenge in his eyes.

"You'll be discussing it with Cid and Edea, of course," he said.

"Naturally," said Squall. _Like Cid's going to be anything other than ecstatic_. "I'll contact them this afternoon. I'll decide then. If you have anything to add to the discussion, I'd be glad to hear it now." At least, thanks to Balamb's superiority, he outranked Martine, even if only by the narrowest of margins.

Martine shrugged dismissively. "I'm sure you'll do what's best," he said.

"Good!" Laguna clapped his hands together. "I'll have something pulled together in writing by this afternoon. Pleased to do business with you. Now, anyone for lunch?"

"Thank you. But I have duties to attend to," said Martine, looking pointedly at Squall as he rose from his seat. "Gardens don't run themselves, do they Leonhart?"

Squall glowered at him, getting up himself. "No," he said. "They certainly don't."

Martine left them with a grim little smile, his coat tails swishing as he swept out of the room.

"That guy has a stick up his arse a mile wide," observed Laguna, shifting to sit on the shiny mahogany meeting table, propping his feet up on the padded chair.

Squall felt his shoulders drop an inch or so, just from the pure relief of not having to stare so hard any more. "Yes," he admitted. "He's a bit difficult."

"That's an understatement." Laguna hooked his hair behind his ears, watching Squall with an amused smile. "You are pleased, though?"

Squall felt a rare grin spreading across his face. "Yes," he said. "Thank you. I couldn't say. . . well, it must look like favouritism, and I don't want. . . but it's great. Everyone will be so pleased. We need Trabia, for morale, apart from anything else. And I never. . . I. . . Thank you."

"You blamed yourself," Laguna observed, gently. "You always thought you should have been able to get word to them, to save them."

Squall's eyes flickered down to the polished surface of the table, seeing a dim reflection of himself there: the mop of dark hair falling in his eyes, the slender outline of his body. Just a boy, really. No wonder Martine didn't take him seriously. "Yes," he whispered. "Of course. But I have to live with that mistake, along with all the others."

"There's nothing you could have done. You did your best, Squall, and everyone knows it."

Squall shook his head slowly. "There's always more," he said. "I've played it over a million times. There's always more I could have done, or different . . . I'm not the hero everyone thinks I am."

Laguna had to stop himself from sweeping Squall into his arms and hugging him, knowing the boy wouldn't like it. It seemed so sad, that someone so young, so fragile, and his own son, at that, should be thinking such things. Feeling such things. Knowing such things.

"It'll be better than the last one," he promised. "You can build the best Garden the world could imagine. Whatever you want, it's yours."

"It feels like you're giving me a birthday present," said Squall. His eyes darted to meet Laguna's, soft grey blinking through his thick dark lashes. "Is that what it is? A present?"

Laguna laughed, and was unable to resist ruffling his son's hair, even though Squall darted back and gave him a look of startled irritation. It was worth it. "I suppose it is," he admitted. "But not just for you. The world needs SeeD, Squall. Trabia was a huge sacrifice, but it was part of the defeat of the biggest threat we've seen since Adel. The world needs to pay SeeD back, and it needs to know that SeeD is there for the future. The threat never really goes away. There's always a new enemy round the corner."

Squall frowned, suddenly remembering Cass and her mysterious warning. There was something about that which bothered him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Anyway," Laguna was saying. "How was the club last night?"

Squall's mind reeled with the sudden change in subject, and the realisation that Laguna had obviously known why he and Irvine had failed to turn up at the reception last night.

"Oh," he said, blushing. "I'm sorry. I. . . er. . ."

"It's okay," Laguna laughed at him. "It was a very boring reception. You didn't miss anything."

"I should have been there," said Squall. "I know I should. I bet Martine was there."

"Oh yes." Laguna leaned back, crossing his feet at the ankles. "He was in his element. Charming the men, flirting with the women. Fucking irritating bastard."

"Damn," said Squall. "I'm sorry. Irvine was so insistent. . ."

"Good for Irvine," said Laguna. "You know, you wouldn't have achieved anything by going. Let Martine do the social stuff. That's what he's good at. You're not the flirting kind."

"I'm crap with people," said Squall, resignedly. He turned and leaned back on the table edge with a sigh.

"A bit," admitted Laguna. "You have other talents."

Squall was about to ask him what those might be, but something stopped him. He suddenly realised this was probably the closest to a heart-to-heart he and Laguna had ever had, and he was surprised at how good it felt. But of course, as soon as he realised how close he was to opening up, it became completely impossible to do so.

"I ought to go call Cid," he said. "He'll want to look at whatever paperwork you come up with, and. . ."

"I was thinking," Laguna interrupted. "Quistis was telling me you've not had a day off in over a year. I have a cabin in the mountains not far from here. You and Irvine would be welcome to borrow it for a vacation. Why not take a couple of days off when you're done here?"

"I don't have time," said Squall, automatically.

"Xu's more than capable of looking after Garden for a few days, and you can take the Ragnarok. That way you can be back in a couple of hours if anything happens. Not that it will. Go on. He's good for you, Squall. I was watching the two of you last night, in the restaurant. He makes you happy. Take a couple of days, enjoy yourselves."

Squall blushed at the thoughts that popped into his head as soon as he contemplated what enjoying himself with Irvine might entail, and he cringed to think he was even having this conversation with his father. Yet he couldn't work out what to say to put him off without hurting his feelings, and for all his lack of social skills, Squall knew Laguna was trying hard here to be a good father, a friend, even. "Um. . . It's just that. . . I don't think we're ready yet." He suddenly remembered the hurt in Irvine's eyes when he'd been mad at him in the elevator, and something twisted inside of him. "For the vacation thing," he added. "You know, only been together a couple of weeks and all." He tried to banish the memory of Irvine's wounded look from his mind, and fervently wished that his father would give up on the idea.

Laguna looked thoughtfully at him. "It's a big cabin," he said. "Take the whole gang, if you like. What d'you say?"

Squall bit down the refusal that sprang instantly to his lips, and forced himself to think. It was one thing to turn down a vacation for himself, but the others. . . This was one of those moments that Rinoa was always lecturing him about, he realised. When he had to remember that other people weren't as single minded as him, that they needed nurturing and taking care of, and that was part of leadership.

Damn, but he missed her sometimes.

"Think about it," said Laguna. "The offer's open."

"Thanks," muttered Squall. "I'll ask the others, maybe."

"You do that. Now, how about lunch? Unless you have plans with Irvine?"

"No." Squall shook his head, feeling suddenly sad. "No plans."

* * * * * * *

The rest of the day passed for Squall in the blink of an eye. He swiftly realised that Laguna had been planning this deal for some time; no lawyers on the planet could draw up contracts as fast as they appeared in front of him that afternoon. Squall was pleased that there were contracts: he was getting good at them, for one thing, under Xu's patient tutelage, and for another it showed the world that this was a Deal. Not a gift, however much the pleasure writ large on Laguna's face when Squall signed the piece of paper may have told him different.

The question of the vacation was a more perplexing one, but then, there wasn't so much of a hurry to make that decision just yet. Squall put that, and other things, to the back of his mind, and buried himself in work.

It was easy to keep busy, even after the Gardens and Esthar had reached their agreement. He called Xu, checked on the million and one things that needed to be done everyday in Garden. He had her email him reports, so he wouldn't get behind, and retreated to the office Laguna had, on request, provided for him. At about eight p.m. he ordered a sandwich and started on the recruitment strategy plans.

He barely looked up from the desk until the clock beeped midnight.

He looked from the clock to the stack of papers in front of him, and yawned. He couldn't fight it any more: he was tired. Completely bone-weary. However much he was, for some reason, resisting the urge to go back to his rooms, he had to face up to the fact that he needed sleep. For a moment he eyed the couch in the corner of the office, but he realised that was a stupid idea, when he had a perfectly good bed at the other end of the palace.

So he gathered his papers into a tidy pile, put them carefully in order, resisting a strong temptation to take them with him. He returned to his quarters, and if his hand trembled slightly when he opened the door, he told himself it was because he was tired.

At first he thought Irvine wasn't there at all. The apartment was still and quiet, the lights dimmed. Then he noticed the familiar duster spread over the couch, hat balanced neatly on top, gloves on the coffee table. Squall walked slowly through to the bedroom, not realising he was holding his breath.

Irvine was curled up on the bed, fully dressed except for his boots, and fast asleep. One arm was curved around his stomach, the other hand under his cheek, his lips slightly parted. His hair was loose, falling like a river over the purple bedspread. Squall stood by the edge of the bed for a long time, watching the steady rise and fall of Irvine's chest, listening to the even measure of his breath. Eventually his own fatigue got the better of him; he slipped out of his clothes, pulling on an old t-shirt, and considered curling up next to Irvine. But he was frightened of waking him, of having to _talk_, because he was crap at it and he'd only make things worse. Irvine would want him to say sorry, and he wasn't even sure he was sorry. He wasn't even sure what had happened that morning. All he knew was that he wanted to put as much distance between then and the inevitable conversation as possible, and if that meant sleeping on the couch. . .

Then Irvine's eyes stuttered open, and it was too late to run.

"Hey babe," Irvine drawled, his voice thick with sleep, lips curving into a little smile. "Y're late."

"I had work to do," said Squall, heart thudding in his chest.

"C'mere," said Irvine, reaching out to grab Squall's hand and pull him down on the bed.

Squall let himself be pulled, his body spooning easily against Irvine's. He closed his eyes, felt fingers stroking his hair, and dared to breathe.

"'m sorry," Irvine murmured sleepily. "I was stupid. Didn't think. Forgive me?"

Squall froze.

A long moment passed before Irvine raised his head to look at Squall. "That was an apology," he said, carefully. "Unless you missed it."

"Yes, I know," Squall choked out. "I can't. . . I. . ."

"There's a golden rule of relationships." Irvine continued to smooth his fingers through Squall's hair in a gentle, steady rhythm. "Never go to bed mad at each other."

"I'm not mad at you," said Squall. "But I don't. . ."

"Shhhh," whispered Irvine. "That'll do. The rest'll wait 'til morning."

And with that, he tilted Squall's head a little to one side, and kissed him.

Squall's body responded instantly, every exhausted inch of himself suddenly awake and ready. Squall's mind resented it, this unquestioning desire, but there was no arguing with it. Irvine had a power over him no-one else had ever had, not Seifer, not even Rinoa. One kiss, one look could be enough to reduce Squall's brain to mush and leave him willing to do anything Irvine asked of him. It frightened him witless, that another human being should have that power.

"Let me have you," Irvine whispered. "Please? You're so damn gorgeous, and I've missed you so much today. . ."

It wasn't that Squall didn't want him too, or even that he hadn't forgiven him. It was something deeper than that, something instinctive, an old habit he hadn't unlearned. Somewhere inside him was a voice telling him he was weak for giving in to this, that he didn't deserve it, that it was a betrayal, and yet his body was so insistent, his cock instantly hard, his balls aching. Above all, it made him feel vulnerable and defenceless; he disarmed himself by allowing Irvine's affection to warm him, it broke down his barriers and he couldn't bear it. He found Irvine's gentle touch irritating, maddening; he wanted this hard and fast and over with. He couldn't get rid of the sense that he didn't deserve it, that it didn't mean anything, that if he were to let himself go and take what Irvine was offering he'd be making himself a fool. But his need was deep, balls were throbbing and his dick hard and leaking.

"Fuck me," he said, the minute Irvine touched it.

"In a while," said Irvine, and went back to licking a lazy circle around Squall's nipple.

"No. Now." Squall pulled Irvine's head up by his hair, not roughly enough to hurt, but enough to bring a startled look to Irvine's face. "Fuck me now." He knew he must have sounded desperate, but he couldn't help it.

"Okay, babe," said Irvine, doubtfully, and turned to the nightstand to retrieve the tub of lube. Squall helped Irvine to slather his cock with the stuff, and gave his lover only the barest moments to slick his entrance before he hitched up his legs and pulled Irvine on top of him.

"All at once," said Squall. "Not slow. Fast. Now."

He felt the rush as Irvine's cock surged into him, relishing the flash of pain, but careful not to show it. Irvine felt huge inside him, hard and powerful.

"You okay, love?"

"Yes. . . fuck me, Irvine. Hard. Fast. Please."

"I don't. . ."

"Shit, just fuck me, Kinneas!" Squall glared a challenge into Irvine's soft violet eyes. Irvine held still for a moment longer, as if considering, and then he shut his eyes and gave Squall what he wanted, what Squall thought he wanted, what he thought he needed, hard and fast and hurting, just a little. Squall took it, stroking himself when Irvine told him to, bracing himself against the flurry of thrusts with his feet flat on the backs of Irvine's thighs. He came quickly, balls crawled up tight, spattering over his chest, and not long after Irvine slipped out of him, gently pulled his legs back down, and kissed him.

He wanted to cry, gods, he wanted to cry. How he managed not to, he had no idea. He kept his eyes closed, afraid of the truth he might see in Irvine's gentle gaze, and welcomed the exhaustion that enveloped him.

Irvine wiped the come from his body with a soft cloth, and helped him back into his T-shirt, and didn't once ask him to open his eyes. Squall was vaguely aware of the comforter being drawn over his naked body, before he fell asleep.

* * * * * * *

Once Irvine was sure Squall was fast asleep, he carefully got off the bed, and got undressed; Squall had barely given him time to undo his pants before demanding to be fucked. He retrieved his hair tie from one pocket, chucked his jeans on a nearby chair with the rest of his clothes, and padded into the shower. He shut the door carefully behind him, and turned the lights up.

He liked Estharian showers. They were large, and tiled wall to ceiling to floor, fitted with large mirrors, and on the whole not quite as pink as their elevators.

He turned on the water, and as he waited for it to flow through to hot he watched his reflection in the mirror. He twisted his hair into a knot at the back of his head and secured it with the hair tie, wincing as he accidentally trapped the fine hair that grew at the base of his skull.

Irvine wiped a clear streak through the misted surface of the mirror, and passed his eyes critically over the image he found there. He looked tired, sad, and much cleaner than he felt, his hair shining under the soft overhead light, his skin flushed, lips faintly swollen, his cock still hard, jutting proudly from it's neat bed of auburn curls. He curved one hand around it, protectively, and gave it a few strokes. Still slick from the lube, still bright and alive from the feel of Squall's body. Still hungry and wanting to come.

He stepped under the hot jet of water, braced himself with one hand against the slick tile, and started to wank, fighting a flash of self loathing at what he was doing. He closed his eyes, tilted his head up to feel the warm spray on his face, and concentrated on the familiar sensation of his own knowing hand caressing his skin. Soothing his aching flesh as he wanted Squall to soothe it, lovingly, firmly, knowingly. He called to mind a memory of Squall in the club, dancing with him, a blissful, generous smile on his face, his hips grinding against Irvine's. He'd raised his arms above his head, trailed fingers through his dark bangs, looking at Irvine all the while, his eyes smouldering with lust and heat. His arms had come to rest on Irvine's shoulders, and he'd dipped his hips in time with the music, shimmying against Irvine's body, his erection torturing Irvine's through leather and denim.

He'd brushed kisses along Irvine's jaw, and whispered in his ear that he wanted him.

Irvine's body clenched tight and released. He squirted long streams of semen against the tile and found himself thinking of Seifer, and hating him. Then he blanked his mind, focused on the shudder of release that swept over him, functional, necessary pleasure, but pleasure nonetheless.

When he was done he pulled his foreskin carefully over the head of his cock, and reached for the soap.

A few minutes later, clean and dripping wet, he wrapped himself in a large, fluffy pink towel and returned to the bedroom. Squall was deep in sleep, one plump white pillow clutched in his arms, nose twitching against a strand of hair that tickled it. Irvine dried himself quickly, shivering against the chill of the room after with the steamy heat of the shower. He slowly pulled back the covers, and climbed into bed, gently extricating the pillow from Squall's arms.

The Commander of Balamb Garden murmured, and Irvine felt one arm slide around his middle; Squall's body was warm and toasty with sleep; he gave another mutter and fell back deeply into his dream.

Irvine cuddled Squall as close to him as he dared without waking him up, smoothing the soft dark hair from his face, dropping a kiss to his pale cheek, his heart full and aching. He wanted to wake him up, to tell him he loved him, to hold him tight, and make things feel right again, but he didn't dare.

So he just held him, instead, listening to Squall's steady breathing, and watched his sleeping face, open and young and not all that different from the boy in the orphanage that Irvine had known so long ago.

He hated himself, for giving in to Squall again, for taking him like some cheap whore he'd picked up in an alley somewhere, just because he'd asked for it. However many excuses he could call to mind: he'd been half asleep; the need had been so clear in Squall's eyes; who was he to say what his lover really needed - they all sounded flat and pathetic.

He wondered what had made Squall want it so badly.

Irvine drifted slowly to sleep, the caress of his fingers slowing to a stop in Squall's hair, a fresh promise newly forming from his sad and lonely thoughts.


	3. Magic

Irvine woke to find his nose being tickled by soft brown hair. He smiled.

Squall was sleeping on his back, one arm thrown above his head, the other draped over his tummy. He was still, lips slightly parted, and he snored just a little. Irvine was curled up on his side, his face buried in Squall's neck, a good deal of his own hair trapped awkwardly under Squall's shoulder.

He considered how best to get himself out of this predicament. He was pretty much pinned to the bed, and whatever way he tried to extricate himself, he was likely to disturb Squall. Which seemed a shame. So he lay still, ignoring the heavy tug on his skull, and concentrated instead on the complicated man lying next to him. He remembered, painfully, the events of the previous day: the amazing sex, the row, the going shopping with Selphie and pretending everything was okay, when really all he wanted to do was to go back and find Squall and make things right. Then when he finally did get back, the waiting, waiting for so long he fell asleep. And how when Squall had come back, at last, wanting him, or wanting something, instead of the making up Irvine had hoped for it had gone wrong all over again.

Irvine closed his eyes, trying not to remember how he'd taken Squall as Squall had asked, hard and hurting, and over as soon as possible. How he had let Squall take everything good out of sex and make it about nothing but pain and endurance and power.

On the fifteenth morning that Irvine woke up next to Squall, there was a promise fresh on his lips. And whatever happened, he intended to keep it.

Finally the pulling on his scalp got too much, and Irvine had to move. He took a handful of his hair and tugged it as gently as he could, but Squall was trained to sleep light, and started awake immediately.

"Mnhhn? Irvine?" Grey eyes flickered open, blinked and slowly focused on him.

"Mornin', babe," Irvine smiled, still yanking his hair. "Sorry," he said. "Damn stuff gets everywhere."

Squall squinted at him, gradually realising what the problem was. He lifted his shoulder, releasing Irvine's hair. "'S fine," he mumbled. "Like your hair."

He reached out a hand to touch it, running his fingers through the tangled strands, still blinking, sleepily, a warm smile appearing on his face.

He looked adorable, still half asleep, open, warm, readable. If only he were half so straightforward when he were fully awake, thought Irvine. But then, he wouldn't be Squall, and Irvine had to admit that it was partly the challenge of getting to the real man underneath all that defensiveness and emotional baggage that attracted him. That and the passion he already knew was seething under the surface, just waiting to be freed.

He didn't say anything, half hoping Squall might drop back to sleep and give him the chance to watch him some more. But Squall rarely went back to sleep once he was awake, and it looked like this morning was no exception. Irvine watched sadly as the burden of waking life settled back onto Squall's young shoulders, twisting his scar into the slight frown that rarely left his face, casting a shadow over his cloudy eyes, and robbing him of the easy smile. Doubly so, this morning. Irvine watched Squall remember the day before, saw it lay heavy on his heart.

"Squall, we need to talk."

The eyes fluttered shut; Irvine could feel him withdrawing, hiding from the conversation just as he had the night before.

No. Not again.

"I know it hurts. But this is one of those things we have to do, if we're going to be any good together."

Squall's naked shoulders gave the barest shrug.

"Squall, sugar, we-"

"Don't call me sugar."

Irvine grinned at Squall's familiar low, bickering tone. "Sorry, sweet thing."

One eye opened and glared at him, surprisingly effective for only half the normal power.

"Yesterday was crap," said Irvine.

The other eye opened. "Yeah."

"We have to fix it," said Irvine gently, brushing back the hair from Squall's eyes.

"There's nothing to say," said Squall, his eyes dull as he forced the feelings down, suffocated them. "What's the point? It's just raking it all back up again."

"There's plenty to say. Like, I'm sorry, for instance. And I am. Sorry."

Squall just looked at him.

"It works like this," said Irvine. "I tell you why I did what I did, and why I'm sorry, and then you do the same. And then we try and work out what we do different next time."

Squall looked like he'd really prefer to be somewhere else. But he made no attempt to leave; he didn't turn his back and go back to sleep as Irvine had suspected he might. Instead he pulled himself up to sitting, re-arranged the comforter over his lap, and rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. "Okay," he said, with a yawn. "I'll try."

"Good." Irvine sat up too, and took Squall's hand, twining their fingers together. "It's like this. I like being with you. I like being with you a lot. It gets so all I want to do is be with you. I'm proud of you, of us, of what we have. I don't give a fuck what other people think. I know I stepped over a line, I shouldn't have lied to you about the elevator, it was stupid. I hated that you wouldn't tell me what was wrong, and I worry that you work too hard. I'm sorry I lied. I want you to be able to trust me."

"I do trust you," said Squall, quietly. "I trust you with my life. You know that."

"Yes, but - " Irvine paused. That was a different sort of trust, he thought. That was to do with Command, and fighting, and friends and enemies. Not lovers. But he didn't say anything. It was enough, for now, that Squall was willing to listen. "Yes," he finished. "Me too."

Squall nodded, gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Now you," said Irvine gently. "What about you?"

He could feel the tension start to coil in Squall's body, snapping muscles tight, panic starting in his eyes.

"My work," he started, his voice cold, flat. "It's important. You're irresponsible, you don't understand it. I have to keep up this, this, thing, of being Commander, it's not something you leave behind in the office. It's part of me."

If it hadn't been for the trace of uncertainty in Squall's eyes, Irvine would have thought him angry. But he wasn't. He was just trying to keep control. This was how Squall did hard things: he detached himself, pretended he wasn't there, didn't have feelings, or that the feelings didn't matter.

"I am sorry," Squall said. "I know I was rude to Cass, and I shouldn't have said those things to you in the elevator. But I didn't know what else to do. That's how I am."

"You were scared of what people might think," Irvine probed gently.

"No, not-" Squall looked into the distance, his frown deepening. "Yes," he admitted. "Not scared, exactly, but it is important."

"It's none of their business," said Irvine.

"But they think it is. People judge me all the time, Irvine, I'm the Commander of Balamb Garden and that makes me public property. There's people out there who don't want me to be Commander, and Martine's one of them. I won't give him a stick to beat me with."

Irvine bit his lip, fighting his rising temper. "Is that what I am?" he asked, in a forced-calm voice. "A stick?"

The panic rose in Squall's eyes again. "Yes," he said, "I mean, no, but-"

"Squall," said Irvine, carefully, "do you really want me? Us? Is it what you really want?"

"Of course it is," said Squall, with gratifying certainty.

"But you're ashamed of me."

"No, I'm not, I just... " Squall scrunched up the comforter in his hands, "I have to be careful."

"Why?"

"So you don't get to be the stick," said Squall, in all seriousness. "I don't want you to be the stick."

"And how, exactly, could I be the stick?" Irvine was starting to get confused. "How could people use me against you?"

"They could... I..."

"They could what? Take the piss? Call you names? You had all that with Rinoa, I know you did, the anti-sorceress demonstration at Deling, and..."

"No, it's not that, it's... the Gardens are in a difficult position. I'm in a difficult position. I'm only eighteen. I'm commanding people ten, twenty, even thirty years older than me. There's people who want the Gardens for themselves, there are SeeDs who want my job. All they have to do is put it about that I can't cope, that I've not got my mind on the job and..."

Irvine was very still. Words of protest and disagreement faded unspoken from his lips, as he realised, with a sinking heart, that Squall was probably right.

"But you saved the world," he said, looking at the slender, almost thin and undeniably young person sitting next to him, and thinking how unlikely that seemed, even to him. But he'd been there, he remembered the strength, the courage, the unbelievable force of will that had enabled Squall to carry on when anyone else would have given up. "Doesn't that count for anything?" There was bitterness in his voice; the idea that people could forget so quickly what Squall had done for them raised a rare anger in him.

"A lot of them don't even know what happened at the Castle," said Squall. "Why should they care? All they remember is the Lunar Cry, and the War of the Gardens. As far as they're concerned the best they can see in me is that I'm Laguna's son. And even he has his enemies."

"So you have to work yourself into the ground just to prove you deserve your job when..."

Squall just shrugged. He'd accepted this a long time ago, Irvine realised. It was only a problem because he, Irvine, was a whole new vulnerability.

"We could keep it secret," he said, hating himself for it but understanding, really understanding how Squall felt at last. "It could be fun, sneaking about, like a game..."

"No," said Squall, vehemently, surprising Irvine with his determination. "You mean more to me than that. You're the best thing that happened to me since..." he tailed off, looking down at the twisted fabric of the comforter in his fingers.

"Rinoa," Irvine finished for him. "It's okay to say her name, Squall. I'm not the jealous kind, you know."

"Rinoa. She was... I miss her, Irvine. A lot," he said, with such feeling Irvine's claim was challenged straight away. "But I don't..." he carried on, with far less certainty, "I don't, she isn't, she doesn't mean what you mean to me. Not any more. Probably not ever. I don't know if I ever really..." he clutched the bed covers even more tightly, looking wretched. "I think I might be gay, Irvine."

He looked up at Irvine, scared, seeking approval.

Irvine stared at him. Squall was certainly full of surprises this morning.

"But you had other girls," he said gently.

"Yeah, but... I dunno," he said vaguely. His eyes darted to Irvine's, worried. "Does it change anything? Would it?" he said. "Do you mind?"

Irvine smiled, flicked a stray strand of hair out of Squall's eyes. "Of course not. I'd have been bothered if you'd decided you were straight," he said, with a wry grin, "but otherwise it's all the same to me."

Squall looked visibly relieved. "Oh good. I mean, I'm not completely sure I am," he mused, "but I think... I still have to work stuff out, I guess."

"Sure," soothed Irvine. "I've been there, it'll be okay, I promise. I'll help. We'll work it out together, huh? All of it, the job, the gay thing, us. Together. Whatever it takes, okay?"

Squall gave him a grateful little smile.

There was a pause.

"Is that it?" asked Squall, eventually. "Are we done?"

Irvine hesitated. He wasn't, quite. He still wanted to know why Squall had insisted on being taken so hard, so brutally, why he had wanted Irvine to hurt him. But this wasn't the time. Squall had already told him a lot of things he hadn't wanted to face up to. Irvine couldn't bring himself to ask for any more.

"We're done," he said.

Squall gave a sigh of relief, relaxing visibly.

"You know what happens now, though?" Irvine said, tracing one finger from Squall's shoulder down his arm to his elbow, and making little circles there.

"No?" said Squall, innocently, so innocently that Irvine had to laugh.

"The make up sex," he said. "This is where we make each other feel so good we never want to fight ever again."

A slow grin spread across Squall's face, and he suddenly didn't look so innocent any more.

Irvine kissed Squall tenderly, scrunching his sleep-tousled hair gently in his strong fingers, tasting him deep.

"That's better," he whispered.

"What is?"

Irvine was caught off guard for a moment; he hadn't really been thinking of anything specific. He searched Squall's eyes; they were unguarded for once, soft. Trusting.

"Us," he said. "This. Understanding each other."

Squall blinked. "Yes."

"What would you like me to do?" Irvine curled a strand of Squall's silky, dead straight hair around one finger. "Anything. You name it."

"Everything you do is good."

Irvine wondered if that were true, or if Squall was simply too shy to say what he wanted. He couldn't quite tell. But the idea of a shy and innocent Squall was even more irresistible than the compliment, however unlikely it might seem.

"Touch, lick or fuck?" he whispered, brushing Squall's ear with his lips.

"Touch," said Squall, surprisingly. Then he kissed Irvine's neck, and added: "then lick." His hand flowed smoothly down Irvine's side to rest on his butt, cupping it gently, with a little squeeze. "Then fuck me."

Irvine found himself suddenly trembling, his cock rock hard and rasping against the sheets that were wound between them.

"Oh, Squall, babe..."

"Think you can manage all that?"

Irvine trailed his shaking fingers down Squall's chest.

"I'll try my very best," he said.

His hand brushed against the head of Squall's cock. It was wet, already slick with precome. Squall made a lot of precome when he was really turned on, Irvine had noticed. He liked it. A lot.

He followed the edges of Squall's cockhead with one finger, paused at the wrinkled point where his foreskin was attached, and rubbed gently. Squall gasped, and kissed Irvine urgently, moaning into it, thrusting his cock into Irvine's touch.

Irvine stroked down one side of Squall's cock and back up the other, feeling the ridges and veins, appreciating the silkiness of the skin drawn tight over flesh hard as rock.

"You have the best cock I ever saw," he whispered. "It's perfect. Like steel in velvet."

Squall opened one eye and gave him a look.

"Sorry," said Irvine. "You make me poetic. I can't help it."

"Hn," said Squall, but a smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

Irvine wrapped his fingers around the shaft and squeezed gently. "That good?"

"Hmmm."

"And this?" He started to move his hand back and forth, keeping his fist loose, rubbing ever so slightly as well as moving Squall's foreskin over his cock.

"Oh yes..."

"Tell me, babe. Tell me what it feels like."

Squall looked panicked for a moment, and Irvine felt a little guilty. After all, Squall had already done more talking that morning than he usually did in a week. He was about to retract his request when Squall started to speak.

"Feels good," said Squall. "Feels hot. Hard. Balls are full. Feels like it's ready to go off any second."

Irvine chuckled. "We can't have that. This is just stage one, remember?"

"In that case you'd better get on with stage two," said Squall, squeaking as Irvine clasped his cock firmly between finger and thumb, just below the head. "What..."

"It'll stop you coming," said Irvine. "For a bit."

"Oh."

Irvine released the squeeze. "See?"

"Um. Yeah. Wow." Squall couldn't keep a grin from his face as this new technique opened his mind to a whole range of new possibilities.

"Of course, I can teach you not to come in other ways," Irvine said, and paused to tease Squall's nipple with his tongue, licking around the soft pink skin as it puckered obediently under his caress. "And I can teach you how to stay hard for hours."

"I often wondered how you did that," Squall confessed.

"It's in the breathing," said Irvine. "I'll give you lessons. But for now..."

He moved his tongue to Squall's breastbone, and started to lick a swirly spiral pattern along it, heading down towards his belly.

"Oh yes," said Squall, "oh, please, yes."

Irvine pushed the covers back and surveyed his prize.

Squall's cock was beautiful, the sort that you found in arty erotic photography, or sculpture. It arched slightly towards his navel, which it almost touched; it was perfectly proportioned, the head a little wider than the shaft, the foreskin a snug sheath, soft as roses. His balls lay between his slightly spread thighs, the left a little higher than the right, oval-round and tempting. Irvine sat up and drooped his head, his hair falling to pool on Squall's belly, shielding him from view, making sure that whatever he chose to do first would be a surprise.

He slowly leaned over, until he was sure Squall could feel the puffs of warm breath on his twitching skin. He gave the barest brush of his lips to the head of Squall's cock, and darted his tongue out to catch his precome, before swooping down to taste the wrinkled skin that held his balls. Squall cried out, and brushed Irvine's hair aside just in time to watch as Irvine took each of his balls in turn into his mouth, drenching them in spit, rolling them gently on his tongue.

"Oh Hyne, Irvine, oh, oh, oh..."

Squall grabbed his own cock this time, pinching just as Irvine had, instinctively drawing breath deep into his lungs, deliberately relaxing tight muscles.

_He's a fast learner_, thought Irvine. _No wonder he's so damn good at everything he turns his mind to._

Irvine nibbled his way down to nip at Squall's inner thigh, encouraging him to spread his legs. He didn't dare take Squall's cock in his mouth; even Squall wouldn't be able to endure that without coming, not when his balls were snapped up tight to his body already, his shaft throbbing and twitching, leaking another long, sticky line of clear fluid into his navel. So Irvine moved lower instead, licking down the ridge of flesh from his balls to the tight pucker below.

He pushed Squall's legs a little further apart, and fluttered his tongue over the little hole, breathing in the heady, musky scent of him, stroking his twitching thigh muscles with broad palms.

Squall whimpered, tilting his hips up to make it easier for Irvine to pierce him with his tongue.

"Please," he whispered, "oh, please... inside. Need you inside..."

"When I'm good and ready," said Irvine placidly, settling down between Squall's legs as if settling in for a long session.

Squall groaned, and snuck a hand down to his own neglected cock, but Irvine smacked it away. "Mine," he said. "Leave it alone. My way."

No rushing. No taking. No hurting. Not this time, not ever again.

He bathed Squall's anus in long licks, like a washing cat, then probed gently with his fingers to open it a little, enough that he could push his tongue inside, swirl around the tight rings of muscle, probing and stroking as he went. Squall was making the strangest noise, a sort of low keening sound, like a lost puppy; Irvine raised his head to check he was alright, but firm hands pushed him back straight away, leaving him in no doubt that whatever kind of noise it was, it meant Squall was very happy.

"D'n't stop. So good. D'n't stop."

Irvine dropped a kiss on Squall's anus, which was gaping just a little now, before he went back to exploring it with his tongue.

"Stop," squeaked Squall, in sudden contradiction. "Fuck. Now. Before it's too late. Fuck me."

Irvine was tempted to make him wait, but a quick look into his eyes, grey flecked with blue, honestly pleading with him, told him that Squall's need was genuine.

He withdrew his tongue and knelt back on his heels, tickling the underside of Squall's balls with one hand while the other stroked his ass. "Pass me the lube, then, babe. I think it's under the pillow."

Squall swiftly retrieved the tube and passed it to Irvine, watching as he squirted a blob over his fingers and worked it into Squall's ass. After the work of his clever tongue two fingers slipped easily inside, stretching him out a little more, teasing and stroking.

"You ready?"

"Yes... fuck yes..."

"I think you could be readier."

Squall's squeal of protest would have been worthy of Selphie herself.

Irvine watched as he worked a third finger inside Squall's body, and was tempted to add more, but one look at Squall's twitching cock told him that wasn't a good idea. At least, not this time, he decided. Besides, his own body was starting to protest at the delay.

He slathered his cock quickly, and hitched Squall's ankles up onto his shoulders.

"Now you're ready."

Squall shook the hair from his eyes, and watched as Irvine pushed inside him, bit by bit. Slowly. Very slowly. Not because Squall's body was in any way reluctant to accept him: on the contrary, his passage was nothing but slick and wet and eager. But Irvine wanted this to be everything last night should have been, and more. Slow. Steady. Strong. Driving bad memories away, leaving new ones so deep they'd never fade.

Squall accepted the last inch of Irvine's cock into his body with a sigh and a squeeze so dangerous that all of Irvine's well-meant resolutions to make this last were instantly in jeopardy. He was only saved by some very deep breathing and counting thoroughly to twenty.

Squall snickered, and pulled handfulls of Irvine's hair forward, rubbing it against his cheek. "I love your hair," he murmured, and wiggled his hips provocatively.

The last of Irvine's self-control fled, and he started to give Squall the fucking he'd been begging for.

It was all very well to harbour romantic notions about making it last forever, he thought, his hips swinging rapidly, plunging his shaft in and out of Squall's tight body. But it was another thing entirely to try and resist Squall when he had something in mind. Irvine supposed commanders had to know more than one way of getting what they wanted.

It was good, just the same. Better. He couldn't be certain which of them was in control any more: he may have been doing the fucking, but the way Squall's hips snapped up to meet him, and how his legs wrapped around Irvine's back and pulled him down left him with no illusions that Squall might be a passive partner. They moved together, and all the while Squall's eyes kept their steady gaze on Irvine's and let him know it was good. He popped his fingers in Irvine's mouth for him to suck, to taste his skin, and he loved the rasp of fingerprints over his lips and tongue. He reached down to curl his fingers around Squall's cock, letting it twitch in his hand for a moment or two before he started to pump.

They stared at each other, smiles and moans turning to snarls and grunts as they came, Squall spraying thick white in an arc that reached his neck, Irvine flooding Squall's insides in long strokes, pulling out just once so he could watch it squirting onto Squall's skin, then plunging back deep inside to finish, holding Squall as close as he could, squeaky sticky wet all over.

Squall's legs collapsed back onto the bed, pushing Irvine's softening cock out of his body in a slick rush. He started to laugh, and Irvine joined in, even though he had no idea what was so funny. It just felt good, amazingly good, to hear Squall laugh, and to laugh with him.

"Steel in velvet," Squall gasped eventually, subsiding to breathless giggles.

"Hey, be nice," said Irvine, flopping onto his back, contentedly. "I was trying to be romantic."

"I'm sorry," said Squall, and started laughing all over again.

* * * * * * *

Squall buckled up the last of his belts, and reached for his jacket. He couldn't stop smiling. Especially when he looked at Irvine, who was wearing an almost identical grin.

It wasn't often that Squall let himself enjoy a moment's happiness without letting the worries that always seemed to be hovering in the wings take over. But that morning, for once, he did. It wasn't just because of the sex, amazing though that had been. However painful he'd found it to open up and talk about things, it had left him feeling closer to Irvine than he'd ever been to anyone. And it felt good. Very good. It reminded him of the time he'd dived off a cliff as a child, near the orphanage. It hadn't been a very tall cliff, he didn't suppose, and he'd always been a good swimmer, although he'd frightened Sis and Matron half to death. But he clearly remembered the moment he'd decided to jump, no matter how scared he was. He'd been sure the sea was deep enough, and once he'd convinced himself to take the risk, once it was too late to turn back, it was all euphoria and exhilaration; the wind rushing through his hair, caressing him for the long freefall until he hit the water, slicing into it neatly, cool and soothing on his heated skin. Safe.

Irvine finished brushing his hair, still damp from the shower, and tied it back in its usual ponytail. Squall immediately found himself itching to release it. At this rate they wouldn't get out of their room 'til lunchtime. And for once, Squall didn't care.

"So, what are you doing today?" asked Irvine. "More meetings? Signing things? Or are you just going to hang around the place looking hot until everyone agrees to do whatever you want?"

Squall snorted. "Like that would work!"

Irvine sidled up to him, draped his arms over his shoulders, and stole his breath with one look.

"Works for me," he said.

Squall had to delve into his pants to adjust his swiftly hardening cock. His swiftly hardening, sore-and-yet-still-leaking cock.

"I have to see Laguna," he managed to say, despite the fact that all the blood seemed to be draining from his brain straight to his groin. He couldn't take his eyes of Irvine's mouth.

"Okay," said Irvine. "Shall I go see if Selph wants more shopping?"

Squall licked his lips, his sense of responsibility desperately fighting his lust for control of his body. "No," he said. "Come with me."

"To see Laguna?"

"Yeah. Just promise you'll be good."

"Oh baby," Irvine growled, letting his own erection just brush across Squall's. "I'm always good."

Then he leaned in to give Squall a tantalisingly soft kiss. When he stopped kissing and pulled his head back, Squall found himself following, demanding more, pressing his body against his lover's and only wincing very slightly at the painful rub of cotton over his swollen cock.

Irvine laughed. "I hate to say it, but I think we need to get out of here," he said. "Before our dicks fall off."

Squall gave a little moan of protest, but he backed off all the same. "Hn."

"So what're we seeing Laguna about?"

"I need to plan some missions with him. But first we need to find Selphie and the others." His eyes twinkled mischief, as he suddenly realised he had a pleasant surprise to offer them. He'd almost forgotten about Trabia, with working late and being such an idiot and all.

"Why? What is it?" Irvine asked, intrigued.

"You'll have to wait and see."

Irvine grinned. "Is this you teasing?"

"Yes," said Squall, smugly. "As a matter of fact, it is."

* * * * * * *

Squall sat on the table in the small meeting room where he'd assembled the orphanage gang, one foot flat on a chair in front of him, the other dangling, barely brushing the floor. He looked at the anxious faces collected around him, and singled out Selphie in particular. She was giving Irvine an odd little look, and for a fleeting second Squall felt a pang of jealousy. After all, Irvine had gone out with Selphie for months, and had been really upset when they broke up. What if he really still loved her? What if he preferred girls? What if...

"Hey, Commander." Irvine looked straight at him, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Got something big and juicy for us, then?"

Squall swallowed hard, and Irvine winked. Selphie giggled.

"Irvine, honestly," tutted Quistis, covering the smirk on her face with one hand.

"What?" said Zell, confused.

Squall loved them all. Really, he did. But sometimes...

"Yes," he said, refusing to so much as smile. "I've got good news." He looked at Selphie again. "We're going to rebuild Trabia."

She blinked at him. The others were already whooping and clapping; she was frozen, staring. She mouthed silently to him amid the hollering: "Trabia Garden?"

He nodded once, and slid off the desk, suddenly horrified that she might be angry, or that he'd done the wrong thing, or...

She launched herself at him, flung her arms around him, her little body all warm and soft. "Oh Squall," she whispered. "Oh, Squall, thank you. I never thought... never..." He felt something wet on his bare neck. She was crying.

He put his arms around her, awkwardly. "It's okay," he said, patting her back stiffly as she sobbed. "There, there."

"I'm sorry," she snuffled. "It's just been a dream, all this time, I never thought it would happen. Oh, Gods, what am I doing?" she stepped back, releasing him from his unaccustomed role of comforter. "I'm sorry, Squall. It's just such a surprise."

Irvine was there, suddenly, and presented Selphie with a handkerchief. "Silly Seffie," he said, fondly. "You got my boyfriend all wet."

He put an arm around Squall's shoulder, kissed his neck where Selphie's tears were drying on his skin. Squall fought the urge to brush him off, trying to relax, telling himself he was with friends, it was okay to show affection in front of them, it couldn't hurt, and Irvine had called him his...

"How's it getting paid for?" Quistis was asking. "It's going to cost a fortune."

"Laguna did a deal with us," Squall said, trying his hardest to focus. "We clear up Esthar of Lunar Cry monsters, and Esthar pays us in Garden."

"Woohoo!" yelled the quickly-recovered Selphie. "Sir Laguna is just the best."

"I think you can drop the Sir, Selphie," said Squall. "You know him well enough by now."

"I like it," said Selphie. "Besides, it's particularly heroic of him. When do we start?"

"Straight away," said Squall. "I signed all the papers yesterday. We can start getting plans drawn up as soon as you like. I want you to lead the rebuilding programme, Selph. You up to it?"

"You bet!" Selphie bounced, clasping her hands delightedly in front of her chest.  
"And Quisty, you alright with logistics?"

Quistis nodded once, smiled. "I could do with a new challenge," she said.

"Me, Zell and Irvine will get on with the monster bashing," said Squall.

Irvine's name sounded different on his lips, somehow. It chimed in his head, like a bell.

He wanted to say it over and over.

"Let me at 'em, baby," Zell enthused. Squall wondered vaguely if he'd be so keen when he'd killed thirty or so more marlboros, but concluded that actually, yes, he would. Zell was unstoppable that way.

Squall looked around at them, all happy and excited, and decided there and then that he would take Laguna up on his other offer, too. They all really deserved a vacation, and even if it was tempting to steal some time alone with Irvine...

The door opened, and Laguna's assistant burst in.

"Sorry to bother you, Commander, but the President would like to talk to you straight away. It's urgent, sir."

"Of course." Squall nodded to her. "Where is he?"

"In the presidential suite, Commander."

"Thanks. I'll be right there."

She'd gone before Squall remembered that Irvine still had one arm curved protectively around his shoulder, that he had reached up and twined their fingers together. He turned and found his lips bare inches away from Irvine's, the temptation to kiss him, to take just one tiny kiss, even, was almost irresistible.

Irvine didn't even think about it. He just kissed, brushing his lips swiftly across Squall's, with the faintest stroke of his tongue. He left Squall breathless in an instant.

"You want me to come with?" Irvine was saying. "If it's an emergency maybe I should stay here?"

"Um," said Squall.

Irvine raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You okay, babe?"

Squall nodded.

Think. He needed to think. And not about Irvine, for a moment.

"Come with me for now," he said. "Dad'll say if he wants to see me alone."

"Okay," said Irvine. "Let's go."

"See you later," Squall said to the others. "We can talk properly about Trabia and everything then."

"Thank Sir Laguna for us!" Selphie yelled as they left, Irvine's arm slipping from Squall's shoulders as they stepped into the corridor. The doors slid shut behind them.

"I hope it's nothing serious," said Quistis.

* * * * * * *

Even Squall could tell from Laguna's face that something had happened. He was tense and clearly worried, an unusual frown twisting his normally cheerful expression.

"You wanted to see me?" Squall said, unconsciously matching his father's frown with his own.

"Yes, thanks for coming, hi Irvine."

Irvine nodded and smiled. "If you want I can..." He pointed vaguely over his shoulder.

"No, stay." Laguna smiled back, despite his obvious anxiety. "Nice to see you."

Irvine relaxed a little, feeling gratifyingly approved of.

"What is it?" Squall asked. "What's wrong?"

"Odine's been kidnapped," said Laguna.

Squall stared blankly at him for a moment.

"Kidnapped?" said Irvine. "Why?" He couldn't imagine why anyone would willingly steal the strange little man. Most sane people tried to avoid being within listening distance at all costs.

"Because he's the most advanced scientist on the planet," Squall pointed out. "And one of Esthar's greatest assets. Have they asked for a ransom?"

"Not yet. It seems he's only been gone a couple of hours. I got a message a few minutes ago to say he wasn't in his labs, and there were signs of a scuffle. There was a note, too, - and this is the strangest thing - it said he'd been taken to serve the new sorceress."

"Can I see the note?" Squall asked calmly. Irvine couldn't help slipping an arm around Squall's waist, he couldn't leave the man alone today, and the mention of sorceresses made him feel oddly possessive. He was pleased to note that Squall made no effort to escape his affection; if anything he leaned a little closer.

He read the note over Squall's shoulder. It was printed, of course. And read just as Laguna had described. Odine, taken to serve a sorceress.

Like he'd served Ultimecia.

Squall handed the note back to Laguna. "Any idea where-"

"Not a clue. I've got some people looking at the security cameras, and Kiros has closed the main exits to the City, but I'd be surprised if they're still here, whoever they are."

"Can there really be a new sorceress?" said Irvine, his voice hushed, as if thinking it aloud was risking making it true.

"Of course," said Squall. "Some women are born with Hyne's power, it's always been that way."

"But they're not all evil," said Laguna. "I mean, Rinoa isn't, and Edea, except when Ultimecia took her over..."

"And some are," sad Squall. "On the whole it's the evil ones who do the kidnapping, in my experience."

"We can take her," said Irvine, confidently. "Whoever she is, she can't be worse than Ultimecia, right?"

"Probably not. But finding her's going to be difficult."

"Shit." said Irvine. "Cass. What if this is what the warning meant? It might be a trap, or-"

"What warning?" Laguna interjected, alarmed.

"She was left a message to give us, that there was a sorceress around that was out to get us. Nothing to worry about," said Squall calmly. "It was just an empty threat. Didn't think anything of it really, we get them a lot. Didn't take it seriously."

Actually, Irvine remembered, Squall had tried to take it seriously. It was he who'd assumed it was a hoax.

"My fault," he said. "We should've taken more notice."

Squall shot him a little smile. "You weren't to know," he said. He passed the note back to Laguna. "We'll go see Cass, see if she can remember any more."

"That might be the only clue we have, apart from whatever the security cameras turn up," said Laguna.

"Right. We'll get straight onto it. You've got my number, just call if anything happens, okay?"

"Yes, Commander," said Laguna, with a wry grin.

"Oh. Sorry. Um. Is that okay?" Squall looked a bit sheepish.

"Sounds fine to me. Off you go then. And take care, okay?"

"Whatever," said Squall, mostly out of habit.

Laguna risked a ruffle of Squall's hair, and got a flinch and a hard glare for his trouble.

On the whole, Irvine thought he'd got off lightly.

* * * * * *

Cass's home was a small apartment not far from the club, functional and neat, with plain walls and basic furniture. It didn't look like the sort of place that was lived in much, more a container for her few possessions. She welcomed Irvine and Squall into it, and offered them a seat on the bare couch.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," she said. "Not that I'm complaining."

She looked at Squall a little warily, and he remembered how bad tempered he'd been the previous morning. He wanted to apologise, but didn't know how to go about it, so he made do with what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

Irvine hugged her, and they sat down. She sat in a chair opposite them, her hands clasped between her knees.

"It looks like you might be right," said Irvine. "There might be a sorceress around somewhere looking to cause trouble."

"Oh," she said, obviously surprised. "You seemed so sure, I..."

"Something's happened since we talked to you that makes it seem more likely," Irvine explained. "Could you go over it again? Tell us exactly what she said?"

"She said that the sorceress has returned. And that she was going to..."

"Going to what?" prompted Squall

"Um... well, the exact phrase was that she was going to kick your sorry butts to hell. I think. Yeah. Sorry." She gave an apologetic little grin.

"That sounds fairly threatening," observed Irvine.

"She didn't say anything about anyone else?" said Squall. "About doing anything else?"

"Nope. Seemed pretty focused on the two of you. Why?"

"Something's happened today at the Palace, I can't say what, but... a sorceress was mentioned. Seems likely the two things are related."

"Oh. Wow. Has anyone been hurt?"

"Not as far as we know," said Irvine.

"And... if there is a sorceress, would you... could you... do you have a sorceress detector, or something?"

Irvine laughed. "No, I'm afraid not. That would make life too easy."

"Oh." Cass scratched absently at her right palm.

"It sounds as if she's looking for us, though," said Squall. He was frowning slightly, as if trying to remember something. "Maybe we should go back to the club tonight, see if she shows up."

"Might work," agreed Irvine. "I wonder how she knew we were going to be there in the first place?"

Squall shrugged. "Followed us, maybe? It's no secret we're here in Esthar. They might have picked us up at the palace, or the restaurant."

"She must've been watching a while," said Cass. "She knew you were out back."

"We can circulate the description, see if anyone else spotted her," said Irvine. "What d'you think, Squall?"

"Yeah. Good idea. I'll get Selphie on it, she's good at recon. And I think we should get back to the club tonight."

"Why, Squall," Irvine grinned. "You asking me on a date?"

Squall gave him a disapproving glare, but there was a tiny twitch of a smile too. "Strictly work, Kinneas."

"I can book the back room for you boys, if you like," offered Cass.

Squall hid a sudden blush behind his bangs. "No, thanks," he muttered.

"If we're going to make it look authentic, maybe we should," suggested Irvine.

"No," glowered Squall.

"Okay," said Cass. "No worries."

Squall didn't notice the wink she and Irvine exchanged. Or at least, if he did, he didn't say anything.

He sat quietly for a while as Irvine and Cass chatted easily together, recounting old times in Galbadia, which was apparently where they'd first met, when Cass was a dancer at a club there. It seemed she knew Selphie as well, and a fair number of Irvine's old friends. Squall listened, interested more than jealous this time, suddenly realising that although he'd grown up with Irvine, and had travelled the world with him in the past year, there was still a good deal about him he didn't know.

His eyes kept coming back to Cass, though. Something was nagging at his mind, and he couldn't for the life of him work out what it was.

Until the time came to leave, and she held out her hand to shake his. And then it clicked. Yesterday, there had been a bandage. Injured she said, something to do with her job.

Now there was nothing. As Squall shook her hand he looked carefully, there was no damage, no injury. Not even a scar.

She looked at him curiously, and he realised he was staring. He drew his eyes back swiftly to hers, and felt a shiver run down his spine. There was something there, something familiar and at the same time rare as diamond.

Magic.

* * * * * * *

"What's wrong, man? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Squall was hurrying them out of Cass's apartment building as if there was a ruby dragon on their tail.

"Tell you in a minute," he whispered. "When we're clear."

Irvine didn't bother to ask what they were trying to get clear of. He'd learned long ago that it paid to do as Squall told him and ask questions later.

They were out of the building and striding down the main street in the red section before Squall said anything.

"Magic," he hissed. "She's got magic."

Irvine frowned. "Who, babe?"

"Cass. I felt it, when I shook her hand. It was strong. Not as strong as Rinoa, but-"

"Woah, back up a minute. You can _feel_ magic?"

"Kind of. It's part of the whole sorceress knight thing. I could always feel Rinoa's, from quite a long way off, ever since that time in space, and with others, I get a sort of tingle..."

"Not just sorceresses, then? You can feel Guardian magic, too?"

"Sometimes, a little. But sorceress magic hums, it's got a whole different feel."

"Did Rin and Matron know you have this talent?"

"Yes, of course," said Squall. "Cid has it too. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," said Irvine, casually. _Sometimes it astounds me how little I know about you_, he thought. _And I want to know it all._

"Anyway, she has it. Cass is a sorceress."

"Cass? But... what... how can that happen?"

"You know how it happens. Some women have the capability for Hyne's power. Cass must be one of them. The odd thing is I didn't feel it yesterday."

"Then..."

"Something's triggered her in the meanwhile."

Irvine stopped, with a touch to Squall's elbow to make him stop too.

"We have to go back and tell her. It could be dangerous for her, if there's an evil sorceress about and-"

Squall didn't say anything. He didn't have to; the expression on his face said it all.

"You think she could be the evil sorceress?" said Irvine, horrified. "But you don't know her, she-"

"Remember how it was with Rinoa," said Squall. "It happens to nice girls too. If that's what's happened, it wouldn't be Cass we're dealing with. It would be whatever sorceress has possessed her."

Irvine stared at him, aghast, speechless.

Squall raised a tentative hand to Irvine's face, touched his bangs, watched him blink at the caress, lean into it just a little, surprised at his tenderness.

"We'll find out," he said. "We'll work out what happened to her, and if it's anything bad... well, we'll put it right. I promise."

Irvine gave a little smile, taking Squall's hand in his and kissing the palm. He laughed, feebly.

"I told her there's no such thing as a sorceress detector," he said. "And I was sitting right next to one all along."

"It's not quite like that," Squall said. "It only works if I'm close, or touching. Well, except for Rinoa."

"Can you feel her now? Rinoa, I mean?"

A slight shadow passed across Squall's face. "No. She faded gradually, as they got further away, until by the time the first day had passed... nothing."

"It bothers you."

"Yes. It doesn't feel right, it's like something's missing."

Irvine felt a surge of jealousy; he couldn't help thinking that a bond like that had to mean something beyond an ordinary friendship. Squall and Rinoa had a relationship he could never hope to understand, and he was surprised at how much that bothered him.

He tugged Squall closer and kissed him, just briefly, reminding himself that they were in public, but needing to stake a claim in some ridiculous fashion. Squall pulled away, but there was a gratifying reluctance about the way he did it that Irvine rather liked.

"We'll get a better idea tonight," Squall said. "I'll talk to Cass, see if she's aware of her power. There's things... things she'd know, if she knew she was a sorceress. And we'll find out soon enough if there's an evil influence in her. Sorceresses don't seem to do be too keen on going unnoticed for long."

"No, I guess not. I can talk to her too, hang about and see if she does anything odd..."

"Perhaps not," said Squall, gently. "No offence, babe, but you're a bit too readable for undercover work. Come on. We should report back to Laguna."

Irvine grinned at his Commander as they started off for the Presidential Palace, feeling suddenly and unreasonably happy.

After all, it wasn't every day that Squall Leonhart called you babe.

* * * * * *

Irvine shook his hair down, dripping a little on the deep pile carpet of Squall's bedroom. Dangling his head upside down, he dragged his fingers through the soggy, tangled mass.

He was aware of Squall watching him, and he played it up a bit, swishing his damp russet mane from side to side a couple of times before flicking it up to fall down his back. He sat on the edge of the bed, and gave Squall a particularly seductive smile.

"Let me help you with that," said an apparently oblivious Squall. "You've got some fucking awful knots there."

Irvine tried not to look too disappointed that his efforts had gone unnoticed. There was some compensation in the way Squall knelt on the bed behind him, clad only in a tiny pink towel, and arranged Irvine's wet hair lovingly down his back.

"So long," he murmured, admiringly. "I wonder if mine'll ever get that long."

"You growing it, then?"

"Yeah. Well, you know." Squall coughed. "More like I never get it cut," he said, gruffly.

"I'd like that." Irvine tipped his head back to give Squall a smile, and got a sudden kiss on the nose by way of a reward. His cock twitched, but he ignored it for now. He was enjoying this rare moment of intimacy with Squall, just spending time together, naked - well, apart from Squall's towel - without some crisis or duty breathing down their necks. For the next hour, at any rate.

"Ow!"

He could be gentler with the comb, though.

"Sorry." Squall shifted behind him on the bed, apparently settling in for a while.

"Where d'you learn to do that?" asked Irvine. Squall was dividing his hair into neat sections, tackling one tangle at a time, working from the bottom up, his fingers steady and confident. "Did you used to do this for Rinoa?"

He forced down a stab of jealousy at the thought. Damnit. Why did he keep thinking of Rinoa?

But Squall just laughed.

"Hardly. She hated anyone touching her hair. Always worried about it getting mussed or something."

Irvine allowed himself a moment of smugness.

"No-one taught me," Squall continued. "I never even thought about it. It's just combing."

_Yet another latent talent_, thought Irvine. _Squall Leonhart: hero, magic detector and hairdresser extrordinaire._

"You do it very well," he said.

"Hn."

"And just so's you know, you can play with my hair any time you like. Hell, I prefer it mussed. Muss away."

Squall laughed, a deep, throaty rumble that Irvine would never tire of hearing.

"What're you going to wear tonight, anyway?" Irvine leaned forward a little to make it easier for Squall to reach the ends of his hair.

Squall shrugged. "Something clubby, I suppose. Why?"

"Well, I was just thinking..." Irvine gazed intently at his close-trimmed fingernails, swinging his legs against the side of the bed. "If you felt like wearing those zip-up-the-side leather pants again, um... that would be cool."

"Are you telling me what to wear, Kinneas?"

"No," said Irvine, innocently. "Nope, just a suggestion."

"Hn." Squall finished combing through one section of hair, and flipped it over Irvine's shoulder before settling down to get on with the next. "Well, okay," he said. "On one condition."

"What, babe?"

"If I can borrow your grey thing."

Irvine had a sudden and very interesting premonition of Squall dressed in his favourite leather pants, belt slung low over his hips, black vest top covered by a slightly over-large silver-grey fine mesh sweater.

"Is that okay?" Squall asked.

"Fine," croaked Irvine. "Absolutely fine. You know I'll wear anything you want, right?"

"Hm. Jeans. The black ones. And something that shows you off here." One pale hand snaked around Irvine's waist to pat his belly button. Instinctively, Irvine pulled the already flat muscles tight, and got an appreciative rub across his abs as a result.

"Okay," he said. He was surprised and pleased that Squall even had an opinion.

Another section of hair was flipped over his shoulder.

"It feels almost normal," Irvine murmured.

"Normal?"

"Yes. Normal. Us, doing this. getting ready to go out, talking about clothes, going clubbing. Just like most people our age."

"I suppose," said Squall.

"It's good, isn't it?"

"Hm. Yes."

"It feels right. Being with you." Irvine felt strangely nervous. This was all still new, and he was frightened of taking things too fast.

Squall didn't say anything, but he paused in his combing long enough to take a long stroke of Irvine's hair.

Irvine caught Squall's hand, and kissed it.

"So what's the plan, for tonight? You want to just hang out and watch, or what?"

"I'll talk to Cass, like I said. Try to sense any other sorceresses."

"How?"

"What?"

"How will you be able to tell? You said you have to get close, to touch them..."

"That's why the club's a good idea. Fuck, it's hard enough to _avoid_ touching people in those places."

He all but shuddered at the thought.

"Poor baby. You know, most men would sell their grandmother for an excuse to touch every girl they came across."

"Hn." Squall gave a none-to-gentle tug on Irvine's hair with the comb.

"Still, you'd better be careful. No naughty touching, or I might get jealous."

"I thought you weren't the jealous kind?" Irvine could imagine the tiny, wry smile on Squall's face.

"Unless provoked. Hey, what am I doing while you're off touching all these women?"

"Watching," said Squall.

That sounded like a very good idea to Irvine. So long as the view included Squall in leather pants, he could watch forever.

"Right," he said, happily.

"I can't put my finger on it," said Squall, "but there's something off about all this. It just doesn't ring true. Why would a sorceress go around delivering threats like that? They tend to be a lot more _dramatic_ about things, in my experience."

"Unless she's scared of you," said Irvine. It was getting to be increasingly difficult to concentrate on Squall's words rather than the feel of his fingers in his hair, smoothing down the damp strands after each passage of the comb.

"I suppose that's possible," said Squall. "But in that case, why risk kidnapping Odine? That was positively reckless. It just doesn't make sense."

"No," Irvine agreed, absently. Squall had finished getting the knots out of his hair now, and was just combing it through from root to tip in long, gentle sweeps.

"I hope they find something on the security tapes. Dad said they'd been tampered with."

"Hm."

Squall stopped combing.

"You're not listening to me, are you?"

"'Course I am, babe. It's just relaxing, is all. You doing that with my hair."

"Hn."

The comb bounced down onto the bed just beside Irvine's bare thigh, and Squall gathered the mass of his hair down his back, pulling his fingers easily through it.

Irvine leaned back, enjoying the feel of Squall's touch and his own soft hair. Any minute now, Squall would say something all efficient and commander-like about it being time to get ready, he just knew it.

Sure enough, the stroking stopped.

"We should spend more time like this. When Odine's back and everything's back to normal. Dad said we could borrow his cabin, in the mountains..."

Astonished, Irvine tipped his head back to look at Squall.

"Squall, are you talking about a _vacation_? You?"

One corner of Squall's mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile.

"I guess so."

"With me?"

"Yeah. And maybe the others as well. Just the orphanage gang. It would be good to be just us, but I figure, they've all worked so hard and Trabia's going to take even more out of them..."

"Sounds great." Irvine grinned up at Squall's face, peering at him all upside down.

"Oh, good." Squall looked relieved. "I thought you maybe might not want the others along..."

"So long as there's you and me, babe, I don't care."

Squall leaned down, and kissed him, his freshly shaved chin soft against Irvine's nose. He sucked gently on Irvine's lower lip.

"Oh Babe," murmured Irvine, as Squall pulled back, with a little smile.

Squall gently tipped Irvine's head forwards again, and started to kiss his hair, working his way down from crown to ends, his hands resting on Irvine's shoulders. Irvine's cock, half hard just from the kiss, had jerked its way almost fully erect by the time Squall had reached the bare skin at his waist. Then he started in sideways, curling himself around Irvine's body, kissing hipbone and belly, and finally nuzzling up against his cock. He licked up the length of it, took the head in his mouth and just held it there, sucking everso slightly, until it had finished hardening.

Irvine stared at the magic that was happening in his lap, speechless. He stroked the dark, silky hair back from Squall's face, revealing big eyes, more blue than grey, gazing at him with something that could have been virginal innocence if he hadn't been doing what he was doing.

Squall's eyes slid shut, and he set about working the whole of Irvine's cock into his mouth and down his throat.

Irvine gasped, his sex enveloped bit by bit in delicious wet warmth, his balls gently cupped in a careful hand, tickled softly by knowing fingers. It was bliss. Pure bliss. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Squall settled himself in Irvine's lap, pulling back a bit to take the root of Irvine's cock in his hand with a firm grip. Then he set about fucking Irvine soundly with his mouth, sucking and licking, cradling the head of Irvine's cock in on his tongue and freezing every now and then, just to tease; letting it fall out all together, dropping it to bounce against his belly, only to scoop it up with tongue and lips and start all over again.

He held out quite well until Squall opened his eyes again, and winked.

He winked. Squall Leonhart, saver of worlds, was curled around him, suckling on his cock like it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, and _winking_ at him.

Irvine came with a cry of surprise, bliss shuddering through him in waves as he spurted onto Squall's tongue.

Squall backed off after the first couple, to take the rest of Irvine's load on his nose and lips and chin.

"Oh," Irvine finally managed to gasp. "Oh. Oh. _Gods_. Babe. Oh. C'mere..." He scooped Squall up in his arms and kissed him, licking the long streaks of cooling semen from his face, tangling fingers in his hair, almost crying with the pleasure that still racked his body from time to time. Squall climbed into his lap, and wound his arms around Irvine's neck, kissing him back softly, nibbling and flicking at Irvine's tongue with his own.

Irvine held him close, stroking his back, down his spine to his perfect ass.

"That was perfect," he whispered. "Oh, gods, that was perfect." _I love you._

The thought popped into his head, unexpected and unfamiliar, startling him. Not yet ready to be said out loud, but there. Definitely there. Terrifying and exciting all at once.

"Hic," said Squall.

"You okay?" Irvine drew back a little to look at Squall's face.

"Fine, thanks." Squall grinned, and hiccuped again.

"You have hiccups," said Irvine, trying not to laugh.

"Hn." Squall glared at him.

It was hard to take Squall seriously when he was hiccuping like that, though.

"Can I get you a glass of water?" Irvine suggested. "Or maybe I should give you a shock?"

"Fu-hic off, Kinneas," growled Squall.

"I could distract you," Irvine suggested, running a hand over the smooth curve of Squall's buttock. "Return the compliment."

To his surprise, Squall shook his head. "It's o-hic-ay," he said.

"Sure?" Squall's cock was still half-hard, twitching towards his belly.

"We're already late," said Squall, but not in his Commander voice. He hiccuped again, and Irvine caught a glimpse of something in Squall's eyes. Embarrassment, maybe? He couldn't be sure. Irvine was good at reading people, famous for it, but Squall still had him baffled sometimes.

"Okay," he said. He reached out to give Squall's cock a friendly 'see you later' squeeze, but to his surprise Squall flinched.

"Sorry," Squall mumbled with another hiccup, and made to pull away.

"What's up?" Irvine let him go, a little sadly.

Squall murmured something under his breath, and started to search through drawers for clean underwear.

"What?" asked Irvine. Squall wasn't exactly blushing, but he wasn't mad either.

"Sore," said Squall, refusing to look Irvine in the eye.

"Oh!" Irvine tried to stifle a laugh. He really did. But he failed.

"There's no need to get smug, Kinneas," Squall growled, finally finding a pair of briefs and stepping into them with little of his usual grace and dignity, looking distinctly flustered.

"I'm sorry," said Irvine, still grinning. "Not smug. Really. There's some elixir left in the drawer, you could..."

"No. Thanks. I don't like to... not for ordinary everyday things. It's not right. It's expensive, it's supposed to be for emergencies. And... special occasions."

"You're probably right," said Irvine, lightly, remembering the enthusiasm with which Squall had splashed elixir around in the back room at the Torama. Something told Irvine there were still a few tensions between Squall's sense of duty and his Galbadian heritage after all. "It'll pass, Babe."

"Hn. If you can keep your hands off me for more than ten minutes straight," mumbled Squall, carefully tucking his protesting cock into its cradle of soft cotton.

"I'll try," promised Irvine. "I'm sorry, y'know, if I was too rough this morning, or..."

Squall shook his head. "No," he said, swallowing another hiccup. "Just... I'm not used to it. Six month of celibacy followed by fifteen days of Irvine Kinneas can be a bit... overwhelming." He pulled on the leather pants that so often dominated Irvine's fantasies, tugging them over his perfect butt.

"Sorry," said Irvine."

"And you can take that grin off your face," said Squall, gruffly. "'S not funny."

"No, of course not," said Irvine, trying very hard to look serious, but not doing terribly well. "It's going to be difficult though, keeping my hands off you when you look so fucking hot."

"I'm sure you'll manage," said Squall, dryly. "Go get dressed. We've got to work."

Irvine gave him a sharp salute, and slid off the bed, padding naked over to the chair where he'd abandoned his clothes.

"You might as well bring the rest of your stuff in here," said Squall, his voice muffled by the black vest top he was pulling over his head. "Save you running up and down the hall all the time. If that's okay with you."

"Of course," said Irvine, surprised and more than a little pleased at the gesture. "Thanks."

Squall just shrugged. And hiccuped. "Damn," he murmured. "Fucking hiccups."

He looked irresistible. Leather pants clinging to his body, undone with belt hanging loose from its loops, hair messy and soft around his shoulders.

"Come here," Irvine said, reaching out for him. "I've got a cure for you."

Squall regarded him suspiciously, but made no attempt to escape when Irvine kissed him. A long, languorous kiss that made his lips tingle and his knees go weak.

Squall's eyes fluttered open to look in Irvine's when Irvine pulled back.

"I'll meet you in the corridor in ten minutes," husked Irvine. "I'll bring that sweater for you."

"Hn." Squall grunted, but at the same time treated him to his sexiest lopsided grin. He couldn't take his eyes off Irvine's; his heart pounded in his chest. Irvine pulled on his jeans and gathered up the rest of his clothes.

"Ten minutes," he said, as he backed out of the door with a wave.

Squall took a deep, experimental breath.

Sure enough, the hiccups had gone.

* * * * * * *

When Squall emerged from his room nine minutes later, the first thing he saw was Irvine, leaning back against the wall opposite the door. Squall took in the low-slung black jeans, the vest top that revealed a lean stretch of abs and hipbone, the hair that shone, burnished copper under the soft lighting. Irvine took a step towards him, duster swishing about his legs. It was all Squall could do to remember to breathe.

He'd never felt like this before. He'd thought he'd known what love felt like, but he'd been wrong. Hyne, but he'd been wrong.

Irvine kissed him, one of those chaste, brief brushes of lips to lips that seemed to be the closest Irvine could get to public restraint. It sent shivers of lust up Squall's spine just the same.

He took the grey sweater Irvine offered him and slipped it easily over his head. It was loose and comfortable, and definitely a little too big, confirming Squall's suspicion that Irvine's shoulders were significantly broader than his own. But it felt good, and judging by the clear approval in Irvine's warm violet eyes, it looked good, too.

Irvine pushed Squall gently back against the closed door, and nuzzled into his neck, pushing the sweater out of the way with his nose, better to be able to nestle into the tender skin at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

Squall gasped, suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation of Irvine's lips and soft breath, not to mention his lover's long, lean body pressing against him. He instinctively slid his arms around Irvine's waist, a thrill shooting through him at the feel of bare flesh under his fingertips.

_Oh gods._

Suddenly he didn't care if they were late, or if they were in a public place. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn't give a damn about SeeD, or what other people expected of him. All he cared about was the feeling of Irvine's arms around him, Irvine's cheek against his neck, Irvine's tongue flicking out at his collarbone. He melted into Irvine's warmth, safe, content. Loved. Horny as hell.

"Time to go, Commander," Irvine breathed in his ear, and with a final kiss to Squall's neck, he stepped away.

Squall blinked at him. He shouldn't let that go, he should say something sensible, try to get Irvine to remember that they were supposed to be working, concentrating, that he shouldn't be trying to turn him on like that when there were sorceresses about and Odine was kidnapped and...

"Right," he croaked, and followed Irvine obediently down the hall.

* * * * * *

The Torama was quieter than it had been the last time they were there. Irvine stood at the bar, one boot-heel hooked over the rail, nursing a bottle of beer in both hands. Squall had followed Cass outside to talk to her during her break, and Irvine was under strict instructions not to follow. It was probably for the best: Squall was right, he wasn't good at pretending. But he _was_ good at watching; it was one of a sniper's most important skills, after all, and the Torama was full of interesting people to watch.

_Not as interesting as Squall's ass in those pants, though._

Irvine took a slug of beer, watching out of the corner of his eye as a stunningly attractive woman slid gracefully onto the barstool next to him.

Her honey-coloured hair cascaded in waves down her back, her breasts were full and deliciously exposed by her low-cut, lacy top. Little more than a fortnight ago Irvine would have been getting his best chat up lines dusted off and ready to go.

Not anymore. No easy smile rushed to his lips. No smooth words. Not a flicker of a tease in his eyes. One surreptitious glance at her cleavage and that was it. He honestly couldn't care less. Whoever she was, she was out of luck. He really had become a one-man guy.

"Irvine Kinneas?"

He started; he'd been about to slide comfortably back into his contemplation of Squall's tight, round, leather-clad ass, and had already forgotten the blonde and her seductive curves. He pulled himself together as best he could, reminding himself that he was supposed to be watching, not daydreaming.

"So they tell me," he said. "And you?"

"My name's not important," she said, tossing her blonde mane over her shoulder and regarding him through green eyes fringed with long, dark lashes. "I have a message for you."

Something clicked in Irvine's mind. "Well, Ms Not Important," he said. "That sounds interesting."

"I can't tell you here." She ran her tongue slowly over her lips. "What d'you say we go to the back room and talk there?"

"Sorry," he said, turning back to his beer. "I'm with someone."

"Oh, really? Would that be a certain Commander Leonhart? Only when I saw him on the way in he was all over that pretty little barmaid that works here. It's up to you, of course. But I think you'd be very interested in what I have to say."

Irvine thought rapidly. He couldn't risk her walking out, in case it was the woman Cass had told them about. He had to do something, even if just to keep her here until Squall came back.

He tried to look angry, or disappointed, or hurt, maybe. "Fuck," he said. "Really? Squall?"

"Oh yes." The blonde fished a plastic card out of her handbag, and tapped it casually onto the polished mahogany of the bar top. "Tongue down her throat and all. Really going for it."

That image made acting the jealous boyfriend a lot easier. Even knowing it wasn't true didn't stop it from giving Irvine moment of torture.

"Back room, you say?" said Irvine.

She smiled at him, smug and predatory. "You won't regret it," she said.

With a quick check to make sure Squall and Cass weren't on their way back, Irvine picked up his beer and followed her.

* * * * * * *

Cass let go of Squall, grateful to still be alive considering the risk she'd taken in grabbing him like that. "That was her!" she hissed. "That blonde, that was the one I was telling you about!"

"You kissed me!" said Squall, stunned. His lips tingled where she had pressed hers against them, and his mind was reeling. One minute they'd been talking about Cass's injury, and how it had healed overnight without her knowing how, and the next she'd flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, plunging her tongue into his mouth before he could protest. He'd been so stunned he hadn't even tried to pull away.

"I'm sorry," said Cass. "It was the only thing I could think of. I didn't want her to see you. Or me. I figured you'd want the advantage..."

"I see," said Squall, weakly. As if the shock of being kissed wasn't enough, there was the magic too. Cass tasted of it, buzzed with it.

It had felt startlingly like kissing Rinoa.

Nothing like kissing Irvine, at all.

His mind reeled in confusion, and just for a moment he longed for the still misery of loneliness that used to be his constant emotional state.

"I'm sorry," Cass repeated. "It was stupid, wasn't it? Like something out of a bad movie. Do you want to go inside and confront her?"

"No," said Squall. "It's okay. You're right, it's better if I can get a good look at her first, just in case... You just took me by surprise, is all."

Cass was blushing furiously. She wore an oversized shirt knotted underneath her breasts, and she was wringing one of the lose ends anxiously in her hands. "Gods, I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what came over me."

She looked at him, and he was startled to see tears in her eyes.

He didn't know what to do about it though, so he just carried on. "It's not important. Let's go inside and see what she wants."

"You go," said Cass. "I'll just take a minute, if that's okay."

Squall nodded. He could tell she was upset, but he wasn't any good at this kind of thing. Maybe he should send Irvine out to talk to her.

But when he went back inside, Irvine was nowhere to be seen.

* * * * * * *

Irvine was beginning to regret following a potential enemy into a room where she had the only key. Not only that, but she was standing between him and the door with a distinctly predatory gleam in her eye and could, for all he knew, be a sorceress of Ultimecian proportions.

Somehow, he didn't think so, though.

"We're here," he said. "You mentioned a message."

"If I give it to you, what do I get in return?" she said, stalking towards him, licking her lips suggestively.

"Like I said, I'm with someone," said Irvine, standing his ground.

"And like _I_ said, he didn't seem to care. If he doesn't care, why should you? Or have I got the wrong Irvine Kinneas here?"

"That reminds me. What was your name again?"

"You don't need to know that. Do you?"

She stood right in front of him now, her breasts bare inches from his chest. She was tall, taller than Squall, and she reeked of exotic perfume. She leaned towards him and kissed him, briefly, so quickly he didn't have the chance to kiss her back, even if he'd wanted to.

"I think I do," he said, firmly.

"Call me Tanya, then," she breathed, and licked clean up his neck from collarbone to jaw. "If it helps." She took his earlobe between her lips and flicked it with her tongue.

Irvine's body started to respond, however much his mind was busy coping with the notion that he really wasn't interested in whatever she might be offering him. She was certainly attractive, and the press of her soft body against his was making him hard and stealing his capacity for rational thought. But none of that was enough. He didn't want her. He didn't want her because it would hurt Squall, and more than anything, he didn't want to hurt Squall.

They needed information, though.

"Message?" He said, sliding his arms around her, the bare flesh of her midriff silky against his skin. "You did mention a message."

"Oh, yes," Tanya said, "I did, didn't I? Well, maybe afterwards."

"Oh no you don't." Irvine pulled back a little, holding her still with firm hands on her hips. "Message first."

She kissed him again, longer this time, and he kissed her back, letting her slide her tongue in his mouth and cupping one breast in his hand, finding and gently rubbing the nipple with his thumb. Wanting worked both ways, he reasoned, and if he turned on the old Kinneas magic, maybe she would give in first.

"You might change your mind after I give you the message," she said, although there was a slight tremor to her hand now, as it wound in the hair at the nape of his neck. "It's up to you. You can walk out of here now, and forget the whole thing, or we can have a little fun, first."

"And you might change your mind after we fuck," said Irvine. "I mean, let me get this straight, that's what we're talking about here, isn't it? You want me to fuck you in return for some spurious message that you may or may not have made up in that pretty little head of yours."

Her eyes flashed fury at him for the barest moment before she turned the seductive charm back on. "The Irvine Kinneas I know would jump at the chance." She sounded pissed, although she still had her arms around his neck, and was writhing her pelvis against his like a bear relieving a back itch on a tree trunk. "You're not telling me you've changed that much in two years?"

_What?_ Irvine wracked his brains as to whether he'd met her before. He really couldn't remember, although that was no great surprise: two years ago he'd been 16, and at Galbadia, there had been a lot of parties, and he'd met a lot of people...

Her eyes narrowed. "You really don't remember, do you?" she said. "You bastard. You total, utter wanker."

"GF use," Irvine said. "Well known side effect. Sorry."

"Oh, please. Not that old chestnut."

"It's true," Irvine shrugged. "Now, are you going to fill me in, or what?"

"You said you loved me."

_Oh crap._ Irvine was starting to see where this was going, and he didn't like it at all.

"You said you'd call me. You said it _meant_ something."

"Did I? Look, I'm sorry, really, but it was a long time ago, and I was young and really screwed up then and..."

"You owe me, Kinneas."

He suddenly felt more scared than when he'd thought she was a sorceress. Which she still could be, of course, only somehow it seemed a lot less plausible. If she'd been a sorceress on a revenge quest he'd probably be toast by now.

The emergency buzzer sounded.

_Thank fuck for that. _

"I have to go," said Irvine, disentangling himself from her arms. "Not that our little reunion hasn't been touching and all, but..."

The door opened, unlocked automatically by the emergency alarm system, and revealed Squall standing in the corridor. Tanya bolted before Irvine could stop her, pushing past Squall, who seemed barely to notice her, and she disappeared in a clatter of heels down the passage way.

"Squall! She's... she said, she... um..." Irvine felt an odd mixture of relief and guilt, and a good measure of confusion. However he explained himself, he had the feeling it wasn't going to come across as convincing.

"What?" said Squall

"I thought she might be the sorceress. She said she had a message..."

"Nope."

"Sorry?"

"She touched me on the way out. No vibes," said Squall. "What the fuck were you doing in here with her, Kinneas?" Surprisingly enough, he didn't sound angry, particularly. More exasperated.

"I... it's a long story."

Squall stepped into the room, and clicked the door shut behind him, punching the code to stop the alarm at the same time.

"Hey, how'd you do that?"

"Standard Estharian emergency code," said Squall. "Dad told me."

"Oh."

"So tell me," said Squall, and waited, standing with his weight on one hip, listening attentively, his expression impassive, unreadable, his best Commander face. "Why weren't you in the bar doing as you were told?"

"She said she had a message," said Irvine, already cringing inwardly as he realised how lame this was going to sound. "Said she would only deliver it in here."

Squall arched a brow. "A message?" He sighed. "What was it?"

"I never got that far," said Irvine, helplessly. "She decided I should pay for it. And then it turns out she knows me."

"Really?" Squall's voice was deceptively calm, but his eyes were glittering silver through his dark bangs.

"From way back," said Irvine. "I think maybe... but I didn't remember her."

"Right."

Squall still didn't look angry, exactly, Irvine decided. But he did look confused, and maybe a little hurt.

"Nothing happened," he said.

"Then how did the lipstick get... all over you?" asked Squall, quietly.

_Fuck. Shit. Fuck. _Irvine picked up a box of tissues from next to the futon and started to scrub at his neck and mouth. _Damn._

"I needed to play along to see what she was up to," he explained, hoping to gods that Squall would believe him. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't. And just when he and Squall were getting on so well, and he'd started to get Squall convinced he could trust him...

"Right. And that would've stopped when?"

"It _had_ stopped," said Irvine, earnestly. "It stopped right fucking there. I'm not going to hurt you, babe. Never. It was just a kiss. That's all. And I hated it, I promise. Really."

"Hn." Squall looked distinctly sceptical, but a lot less mad than Irvine had feared.

"Let's get out of here," said Irvine, throwing the clump of scarlet-stained tissues into the wastebasket. "Did you find out anything from Cass?"

To his surprise, Squall seemed suddenly uncomfortable. His eyes wouldn't meet Irvine's, and there was a tiny twitch in one cheek.

"Squall?"

"She... um... she doesn't know, I don't think. She says her hand just healed, and she didn't mention magic or anything."

"Oh. Good. Well, that's good, right?"

"I don't know," said Squall. He was twisting his ring around his finger. "I'd like her to come to Odine's lab, get his people to look over her, but we'd need to tell her why."

"Yeah. Well, we can do that, can't we? She has a right to know. Unless..."

"I'll take the chance on her being evil. She certainly doesn't seem evil."

"That's a relief. So where is she now?"

"Um. Still outside, I think. I kind of ... left her there."

His eyes darted up to Irvine's.

"Why?" Irvine moved a step closer, itching to touch Squall, to take him in his arms and kiss him until the taste of Tanya was completely gone from his mouth.

"She was a bit upset," Squall said. "I don't know why, I thought maybe you could talk to her, but you weren't in the bar and the barman said you'd come in here with some blonde..."

Squall's eyes were full of confusion, panic almost. Maybe it had just taken a while to sink in. Irvine felt the guilt twist inside him, wishing fervently that he could have the last half hour back and do it over. This time he'd just grab Tanya by the throat and strangle the truth out of the silly bitch.

"I'm really sorry, man," he said, reaching out a hand to take hold of one of Squall's. "It was only a kiss. I wouldn't have let anything else happen, I promise. I'm yours. Just yours. And I'd understand if you're mad, or-"

"No." Squall's fingers threaded through his. "I'm not mad. Well, a bit, that you disobeyed orders, you're not even junctioned, but... no, not mad."

Irvine closed the distance between them, and kissed him. Squall gave a little moan, and his fingers tightened around Irvine's, squeezing hard.

Irvine rested his forehead against Squall's, their noses just touching. "I should have guessed she was a basket case," he said. "She tried to make me jealous, said you and Cass were getting it on outside, can you believe that?" He chuckled softly, slipping his fingers through Squall's hair.

"Oh," said Squall.

"Yeah, I mean, as if..." Irvine pulled back a little. "What d'you mean, 'oh'?"

Squall looked unhappily at him. "It was Cass's idea," he said. "She said it was to make sure that woman didn't see me, so I could sneak up on her, or something..." He frowned. "I still don't understand why, exactly. But there wasn't anything... you know."

Irvine found himself battling yet another wave of jealousy. However much he prided himself on not being the jealous type, Squall seemed to have the capacity to bring out a possessiveness he'd never guessed he had in him. "She can just fuck off," he said. "You're mine."

Squall bristled a little, but he didn't argue. "There was nothing in it," Squall said. "I'm not interested in the slightest. But she was... unhappy. You ought to go talk to her."

Irvine let that idea sink in for a moment. Just now he really didn't care if Cass was unhappy. Damnit, she _deserved_ to be unhappy, taking advantage of his boyfriend like that. Whatever feeble excuse she'd had.

"Go on," said Squall. "You go talk to her. I'll go mingle."

"Alright," said Irvine, reluctantly. "But no kissing, understand?"

Squall snorted. "You neither," he said, pointedly.

Irvine shifted uncomfortably. "Right then," he said, and followed Squall from the room. He had no idea what he was going to say to Cass.

On the whole, though, he thought she was lucky he was willing to be nice to her at all.

* * * * * * *

In the event, he didn't get the chance to have any kind of conversation with Cass at all, nice or otherwise. She'd gone.

The girl behind the bar wasn't particularly forthcoming with details, understandably more concerned about the fact that she'd been dumped with a double shift as a result. Cass had felt ill and gone home, was all Irvine could get out of her.

When Squall had satisfied himself that there were no more sorceresses in the Torama, they headed for Cass's apartment, but there was no answer when they rang her doorbell, and the place was in darkness. If she had gone home, Irvine reasoned, she must have gone straight to bed.

If she'd gone home.

They decided to continue the search in some of the other clubs, at Irvine's suggestion, in the hope of tracking down some hint of Cass or even Tanya, but came up with nothing. It was midnight by the time they got back to the Presidential Palace; Squall headed straight through to the bedroom and flopped on the bed with a groan, flinging his arm across his eyes.

He was exhausted. He never wanted to step foot inside a club again as long as he lived. His ears buzzed from overloud music and his throat was hoarse from shouting to make himself heard.

"So much for the sorceress hunt," said Irvine, bouncing down next to Squall on the bed and tugging his boots off. "What a stupid waste of an evening."

"Yeah," said Squall. "Back to the security tapes, I guess. If Dad's people don't manage to fix them by tomorrow I'll set Selphie on them."

"You mean set Selphie on Laguna's people, or on the tapes?"

"I was thinking the tapes," said Squall, with a grin. "Although the other option could be fun."

Irvine lay on his side, propping his head up on one elbow. "At least we cleared up the mystery blonde."

Squall snorted. "Yeah. Not an evil sorceress, more an enraged victim of the sniper slut of Galbadia."

"Hey," said Irvine, poking Squall playfully in the ribs. "Less of the slut, Leonhartless." Squall tried to glare at him, but somehow found himself laughing instead. Fuck, he must be relaxed if he could actually take being teased like that. Rinoa would never believe it.

"What did you do to her, anyway?" he asked Irvine, raising his arm just enough to peer out at him, squinting as the overhead light shone straight in his eyes.

"I honestly don't remember," said Irvine. "I really don't. She looks kinda familiar, but that's it."

"You're disgusting," said Squall. "Sleeping with someone and not even being able to remember..."

"I'm not even sure I did sleep with her," said Irvine, a little defensively. "I certainly don't remember it, and I'm the one with the good memory round here, after all." He risked another prod to Squall's ribs, and was rewarded with a painful kick to his ankle. "'Ow."

"Don't push your luck," said Squall, languidly.

He could have fallen asleep right there and then. But Irvine had other ideas, of course, and before he had a chance to start drifting off Irvine was kissing him. It was slow and gentle, and continued for a long time without developing into anything else. The only gesture Irvine added to the brush of lips to lips and tongue to tongue was to wind a strand of Squall's hair around his finger, and he continued to play with it even as he drew back, and they stopped kissing, and looked at each other.

Irvine's eyes were dark, almost indigo in the soft lighting, shadows accentuating his strong jawline and high cheekbones, the prefect slant of his nose. Squall traced Irvine's hairline with one fingertip, tucked his bangs behind his ear. Irvine shook it lose with a frown; he was happy for Squall to do pretty much anything to him, but he liked his hair to be lose around his face.

Squall chuckled, and tugged Irvine's hair tie free of its tie, auburn silk tumbling over his shoulders and dropping to tickle Squall's face.

"You're beautiful," Squall said, tempted to keep the words locked inside him, but just as determined this once to try and tell Irvine at least some of what he felt. This was a good time. He felt sleepy and horny, and he trusted Irvine more at that moment than he could ever remember trusting anyone.

"Wow," said Irvine, softly.

That was the miracle, thought Squall. That's what made the difference. Not that he could tell Irvine things, but that Irvine knew how difficult it was; he valued them, treasured them, he _understood._

Irvine kissed him again, winding his fingers deeper into Squall's hair. More serious now, more passionate, moaning approval when Squall responded to him.

"Oh Babe..." Irvine murmured between kisses, barely taking his lips from Squalls enough to speak. "I have to ask... are you still sore? Only... I want you so bad..."

Squall grinned. "It was only my dick that was sore, Kinneas. There's other parts of me that work just fine."

Irvine groaned, and slid his hand up Squall's side, under sweater and vest. "I want to make it good for you, too, babe," he said. "Got to be good for you too."

Squall considered that for a minute, more than a little distracted by the caress of Irvine's hand ghosting over his ribs. "You'll think of something," he said.

"How about I make you come without either of us touching your dick?" suggested Irvine, teasing one of Squall's nipples, making him gasp.

Squall closed his eyes and wriggled happily against Irvine's body.

"I'll take that as a challenge, then," said Irvine.

"Yes," Squall breathed, giving himself up to more kisses, a little more urgent now but still lingering and deep. He lay quietly as Irvine undressed him, touching Irvine whenever he got the chance, a rub to the small of his back, a squeeze of his hipbone, a soft kiss on the back of his neck. Irvine took his time, slowly unzipping and peeling the leather from Squall's body, kissing his way up each leg in turn, running his tongue around the outline of his muscles.

Squall tensed a little as Irvine hooked his fingers in the waistband of his underwear, but fought the impulse to take over or pull away, forcing himself to trust Irvine's steady hands.

Of course Irvine was as careful as ever; Squall's cock twitched to feel the cool, soothing air, and on instinct Squall curled his hand protectively around it.

"Hey, no touching, remember?" Irvine batted his hand away, dropping a wet kiss to the eager tip of Squall's cock. Squall groaned, his hips flexing upwards to beg for more.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," said Irvine. "I never want to hurt you."

"'s okay," said Squall. "Doesn't hurt that much. Just sore."

That wasn't strictly true, in fact; even numbed as it was now it was so hard, there had still been a sting when he'd brushed against Irvine's jaw. But Squall didn't mind. More than that, he welcomed it, in an odd kind of a way. It was a reminder, physical evidence that he and Irvine were lovers, that Irvine had sucked and rubbed his body as raw as his emotions. Something had changed in Squall that morning, when Irvine had tried so damn hard to understand him. Not just to talk to him, or obey him, or laugh at him, or change him. Squall found it so hard to connect with people, even now.

Rinoa had been different. Their romance had been so dramatic, every sign writ so large even Squall couldn't miss it, scripted against the backdrop of their campaign against Ultimecia, like a play or a novel. And all the while the buzz of magic had been there, whispering to him that it was the right thing to do, that whatever lingering doubts clouded his mind when he held her in the middle of the night, he was her knight, he had no choice in that, it was meant to be.

There wasn't a script, with Irvine. Just impulse and emotions and this connection, all the things Squall feared the most. But still, somehow, he felt happier than he ever had in his life.

"I don't suppose this is a special occasion?" Irvine's voice cut through his thoughts; Squall realised that his lover was naked, now, kneeling at his side, trailing the back of one hand down Squall's chest.

"You're such a hedonist, Kinneas," Squall said.

"Yes," said Irvine happily. "And...?"

"And no," said Squall. He knew what Irvine was trying to do: as soon as the stopper was out of the elixir it would be accidentally spread over Squall's sore flesh, and the precious, silly reminder of that morning and Irvine's unquenchable desire would be gone. "Lube," he said. "Under the pillow." He daren't explain, Irvine would think him completely mad. "Challenge rules. No artificial aids."

"Oh. Well, that's not a problem," said Irvine, shaking his head so that his hair tickled Squall's ribs and belly. "The old Kinneas magic will work just fine, don't you worry."

Squall laughed at him, and gave a handful of copper hair an affectionate tug.

Irvine glared unconvincingly at him, any attempt at menace completely undermined by the warm affection in his eyes.

It was magic, Squall reflected, as Irvine tugged him over onto his front, arranged him to his satisfaction on hands and knees. He'd never dare admit it to Irvine, but the man could send a buzz through him stronger than any spell he'd ever experienced. All the better, because it _wasn't_ magic at all, it was real and human and ordinary.

He hissed in breath at the touch of Irvine's slick fingers teasing his tender skin. Squall's cock felt heavy; painfully, wonderfully hard, balls full and throbbing already.

"That alright, babe?" He shot a look over his shoulder to see Irvine concentrating, gazing at Squall's ass as if hypnotised, slowly, gently stroking back and forth.

"It's fine," said Squall. It felt wonderful. Cool, soothing anxious, tender skin, sending waves of pleasure through his whole body.

"I've been thinking about your ass all night," Irvine murmured.

Squall felt his cheeks flush, and looked back down at the bed, his hips rocking back towards Irvine as if of their own accord.

"You look so fucking sexy in those leather pants," Irvine said, as if by way of explanation.

"You really do have a leather fixation, don't you?" Squall fought to keep his eyes open: Irvine had started very carefully to slide one finger inside of him, and he had a strong urge to melt into the bed and whimper his surrender.

"Well, duh," said Irvine. "Name me one person in Balamb Garden who_ doesn't _have a Squall-Leonhart-in-leather fixation. You drive the whole place wild just walking into the cafeteria for breakfast."

Squall gasped, rendered completely inarticulate by the firm rub of Irvine's finger over his prostate.

Irvine gave a grunt of satisfaction, and did it again. Squall's arms gave out underneath him, and he buried his face in the bed, clutching desperately at the comforter. "Oh gods," he murmured into the quilt. "Fuck, Kinneas, that's so... ungh..."

He let himself sink into the sensation of Irvine's fingers twisting and stroking inside him, unable to think of anything much apart from how good it felt, how Irvine always seemed to know exactly how he wanted to be touched, and where. There was no uncertainty or fumbling; Irvine learned fast and always remembered what Squall liked.

"How you doing, babe?" Irvine's voice rumbled soft and low in his ear. "You ready for something a bit bigger?"

Squall nodded, scrubbing his forehead against the bed, his shoulders shuddering helplessly at the sensations Irvine's touch was raising in his body. He didn't trust himself to speak, couldn't find the words, didn't care. He whimpered shamelessly as Irvine took his fingers away, and pushed his hips back as soon as he felt the velvety tip of Irvine's stiff cock nudging at his hole. Irvine steered him back with one hand on his hip, groaning loudly, his other hand resting lightly between Squall's shoulder blades.

"Damn, but that looks so fucking hot... oh, man..."

Squall felt Irvine's balls slap lightly against his, and let out a long sigh. He felt full and sore and, oh, gods, so, so good.

Irvine gripped Squall's shoulders and licked up his spine, the broad sweep of his tongue pressing relentlessly over every bone, leaving a trail of skin wet and alive in the cool air. Then Irvine's front was pressed to Squall's back; he tossed his hair over one of Squall's shoulders and his lips were on Squall's neck.

"You feel so good inside," Irvine whispered. "So hot and tight. You ought to try this sometime, babe. You'd like it."

That was the first time he'd offered. Squall had never thought to ask. It felt so right, this way, Irvine buried inside him, thick and slick and touching all the right places.

"I like this," Squall said, barely coherent. "Like you. In me. Like this." He licked dry lips, shook sweat-damp hair out of his eyes. "Fuck. Please."

"Well, if you insist." Irvine started to move, pulling almost all the way out before he swung back in.

Fingers inched towards the root of his cock, tangled in the curls around it, not quite but so damn nearly touching him... he cried out in frustration, wanting more than anything to feel Irvine's hand curl around him, or his own, or just to fuck the bed, anything. He didn't care how much it hurt, he needed friction, something, anything...

"Steady, babe. It's alright. Trust me."

Squall did, ignoring the throbbing in his balls as best he could and focusing on the rhythmic thrusts of Irvine's cock inside him, stretching him, teasing him, filling him over and over.

Irvine whispered in his ear, telling him how hot he looked, how hot they looked together, how good it felt to be in him, doing him, fucking him, how much he loved sucking Squall's cock and touching him, how he wanted to cover him in honey and lick it all off, lingering over his cockhead and balls.

"Look over there, babe," Irvine said, pausing for a moment. "In the mirror, there. Can you see?"

Squall raised his eyes blearily to focus on the mirror in the wardrobe door. He gasped.

He saw a lean, pale body spread out on all fours on a pale pink quilt, dark hair falling in streaks over his face; he looked flushed, his lips faintly swollen, eyes hooded, and lying over him, fucking him in long, measured strokes, was Irvine. Golden skin and russet hair, vivid purple eyes meeting Squall's in the reflection, his face lit with a sexy smile, burying himself deep in Squall's ass and holding it there with a groan.

"So fucking beautiful," Irvine said.

Squall couldn't stand it any more; he wrapped his hand round his cock, squeezed once and came with a yell, watching in the mirror as he spurted helplessly over the sheets, dimly aware of Irvine's surprised yelp as his ass clenched. Irvine pumped quickly inside him for a few strokes then, fast and urgent; he'd obviously been holding back, and before Squall had stopped coming Irvine had started, thrusting hard inside him, a flood of warmth, and another, and another...

It was a blur, then, as his orgasm gradually receded and reality returned: he gingerly released his sticky, softening cock, turned to give Irvine a feeble kiss. His limbs turned to jelly, and all he could think about was how good they looked together, even now, all sweaty and smug and wasted.

Squall collapsed on the bed, Irvine on top of him, and was almost immediately asleep.

* * * * * * *

Irvine woke about an hour later, to find himself under the covers. Squall was padding back from the bathroom, rubbing his eyes blearily with one hand.

"Hey," Irvine said.

"Sorry," said Squall, sliding back under the covers. "Tried to be quiet. Woke up sticky."

Squall was warm and damp, he must've showered. Irvine dimly remembered rinsing off himself at some point, but he hadn't wanted to wake Squall, he'd been sleeping so peacefully, so he'd pulled the covers over him and left him.

"C'mere," he said, and held out one arm. Squall snuggled into his side, draping an arm across his belly, kissing his neck. He smelt clean and faintly of soap.

Irvine closed his eyes contentedly, and let himself drift back to sleep.

Except he was suddenly wide awake.

"'vine?"

"Mmm?"

"You 'wake?"

"Looks like."

"Hm."

They lay there for a while, Irvine running his fingers through Squall's hair, Squall's knee fidgeting against Irvine's thigh.

"I can't sleep," Squall said, eventually.

"Me neither," said Irvine, "but this feels very good."

"Yeah," said Squall.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Good. Thanks."

Irvine gave him a little squeeze.

_I love you._

If he kept thinking that he was going to have to say it out loud, eventually. He might have already, if he hadn't been worried it would sound silly, or worse still frighten Squall away.

He found that hard to imagine right now, admittedly. He could all but taste Squall's contentment.

"I think I figured it out," said Squall.

"What, babe?"

"Rinoa. Why I stayed with her so long, when I think I knew, inside, I wasn't interested in her - in women - that way. I thought I must have loved her, but now... It wasn't that I loved her, at all." He yawned.

"Really?"

"No. I needed her. I needed the magic. I needed her to be a knight for. It made me feel... strong. I didn't love her."

Irvine swallowed hard.

"Not like I love you."

Irvine felt a tingle rush up his spine; the soft dark blonde hairs on his arms stood suddenly on end.

"I think I really am gay, Irvine."

Irvine cleared his throat. "Does it bother you?" he said.

"I don't know," Squall said. "I suppose it'll get easier."

"Of course it will," said Irvine. "Like I said, we'll work it out together."

Squall nestled into his shoulder, and yawned.

"Need sleep," he said. "Got to find Odine tomorrow."

Irvine smiled to himself. Only Squall could make an heroic act sound like an ordinary item on a to-do list. _Save world. Kill monsters. Give Irvine head. Buy extra belts..._

"Goodnight, sugar," he said, dropping a kiss onto Squall's damp hair.

"Hn," said Squall, already half asleep.

Irvine closed his eyes, listening to Squall's even, sleeping breath, the day coming back to him in flashes as he drifted off himself.

His last thought before he sank into sleep, was how odd it was, that he didn't remember Tanya at all.

Unless...


	4. Searching

On the sixteenth morning that Irvine woke up next to Squall, there was a loud crash, and a yell of 'fuck', and Squall was scrambling across his body to get something.

Irvine instinctively grabbed Squall as he passed, and kissed him. In his sleep-blurred state, it just seemed the most obvious thing to do.

"Fuck... Irvine... phone..." stuttered Squall between kisses.

"Fuck... Squall... who cares..." Irvine stuttered back.

The phone, which Irvine had just identified as a soft trilling noise from the table by his side of the bed, stopped ringing. Squall settled down on top of him, and had just started to writhe rather pleasantly when a loud pinging started.

"Shit, Hyne, fuck," Squall muttered. "My phone. Next to you. There. Give."

Irvine reluctantly passed him his cellphone, and set about seriously distracting him while he took the call.

"Selphie?" Squall said, grinning at Irvine despite the fact that he was using his best Commander voice.

Which was something of a turn on, Irvine decided.

"Oh. Good," Squall said. "Any luck?"

Irvine wondered whether he could persuade Squall to dress up in full uniform sometime and let him...

"What?!!"

The blood drained from Squall's face; he started to climb off Irvine's body, but Irvine held him there.

"Yes," Squall said to Selphie, quietly. "I'll be right there. Thanks.... Yes. Fine."

Irvine raised an eyebrow, rubbing Squall's thigh, soothing him.

"She unscrambled the tape," Squall said. "They found out who kidnapped Odine." Squall looked down at Irvine grimly, full Commander mode now, the steel in his eyes almost frightening.

"It was Seifer."

* * * * * * *

Irvine licked his way lazily up Squall's inner thigh, enjoying the shudder of suppressed laughter that rippled through his lover's slender body.

"You taste good," he murmured. "Salty. Yum."

Squall combed his fingers through Irvine's hair, spreading long copper strands out over his own belly.

"This is heaven," he said, very quietly, perhaps to himself.

"Really?" said Irvine, surprised. Not that it didn't feel heavenly to him too, but he'd imagined that heaven for Squall would be somehow more... heroic.

"Absolutely," said Squall. "I feel happy. The happiest I've ever been."

Irvine lay his cheek on Squall's thigh and looked up at him, a lump in his throat.

"What?" said Squall. "Does that sound stupid?"

"No. Oh, gods, babe, no. It sounds just fine."

"I've never felt this way before. I didn't think I could."

Irvine felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

"You know when we were stuck in that room, decorating for Selphie?" Squall said, his fingers still moving rhythmically through Irvine's hair. "You said you have to take the heartache sometimes, so you can appreciate the good stuff."

"Did I?" Irvine's memory of that day was dominated mostly by Squall, all brooding leather with tinsel round his neck, actually coming on to him. The details escaped him in the face of that kind of image.

"This is the good stuff," said Squall. "I'd never had the good stuff before."

Irvine smiled, tracing little circles around Squall's hipbone with his middle finger. "Don't be daft. You had Rinoa."

"Not really. It didn't feel like this."

"Squall, man, you rescued her from outer space. How can I compete with that kind of devotion?" Irvine knew he was fishing, but he couldn't help himself. He had to face it, he was jealous of Rinoa. Of the connection that he knew, in his heart of hearts, Squall still shared with her.

"No, you're missing the point," said Squall. His scar wrinkled in concentration at the effort of forcing his feelings into words. "It wasn't really love, what I had with Rin. It was the magic. I'd never felt so _connected_ to anyone before. I'd gone from being completely alone to having someone who's lifeforce I could feel, who's energy was bound to mine. I had this overwhelming need to protect her, to care for her. But it wasn't love. It wasn't even sex. It definitely wasn't sex."

"You mean the sex wasn't..." Irvine put on his most innocent expression, but he could tell straight away that Squall wasn't buying it.

"I'm gay, Irvine," he said. "So you were on to a winner there from the start."

"But I'm better than Seifer," said Irvine, with big, round, puppy-dog eyes.

Squall smiled indulgently. "Yes, Irvine, you're better in bed than Seifer. There, happy?"

Irvine grinned. "Yup," he said. "Can I tell him?"

Squall laughed. "We've got to find him first."

"That's fine." Irvine settled himself back down on Squall's thigh, with a fleeting kiss to his sleeping cock. It twitched briefly in response, but showed no signs of stirring. Irvine sighed happily. They were all satisfied and warm, and Squall loved him and was happy. It didn't get much better than this.

Pity they had to go and save Odine, really... but that didn't matter right now. He'd managed to drag Squall back to bed once the initial shock of Seifer's involvement in the current crisis had faded, persuading him that there really wasn't anything that could be done until Laguna's people had analysed Selphie's data. It would be at least another half an hour before the security team reported back, and he intended to spend every last minute of it enjoying the soft haze of sated lust and warm affection that Squall was exuding.

"It feels good, doesn't it," he murmured. "When you start to work out who you are, and who you want... what you want. Feels like you've arrived."

"Yeah." Squall was still playing with Irvine's hair, stroking it gently, twining it around his fingers, making little tufts to tickle Irvine's shoulders. "It's a relief, too. Means I don't have to think about it anymore. I can go back to thinking about rostas and contracts instead of stupid feelings."

Irvine was fairly sure that that was a joke. But he glanced up just in case. Sure enough, Squall was grinning mischievously at him.

"You've got a way to go yet, Leonhart," Irvine said. "I think you'll need constant supervision for a good while. Maybe years."

"Hn."

"And sex therapy." Irvine snaked out his tongue to bully the tip of Squall's resting cock, sucked briefly on his silky soft foreskin. _Like rose petals_, he thought to himself.

"You can't leave it alone, can you?" complained Squall. Happily.

"Nope," said Irvine, nudging it gently with his nose. "You smell good," he murmured, as if that was an excuse. "You smell _fucking_ good."

Squall groaned, and his cock twitched again, thickening enough to straighten out the kinks. Irvine scooped it into his mouth, anxious to feel it hardening against his tongue. He _loved_ to feel Squall get hard in his mouth.

"Oh, gods, Irvine..."

Irvine tickled lightly just behind Squall's balls, and released his cock barely long enough to speak.

"Got another in there for me, Commander?"

Squall clutched his fingers in Irvine's hair. "One way to find out," he said.

Irvine growled approvingly. He did so enjoy a challenge.

In just a few moments Squall's cock was hard and thick in Irvine's mouth; he wrapped his hand around the root, pumping slowly, pausing every now and then to kiss the sensitive tip and nibble the flared ridges around the head. Squall rocked his hips, his eyes closed, head thrown back, cheeks flushed. Irvine was regularly astounded at how fast Squall could go from unaroused to completely wanton. Sometimes just one kiss, one touch was enough... He took just the head of Squall's cock in his mouth and suckled on it, precome slick and sweet on his tongue, the sound of Squall's ragged breathing filling his ears.

He snaked his free hand down between Squall's legs and started to tease his entrance, still slick from their fucking earlier. Still full of his come... _Oh Hyne, what a thought_... His middle finger slipped inside, found Squall's sweet spot and rubbed.

"Oh... gods... Irvine..."

Irvine twisted his finger, pulled it in and out once or twice, then settled to rubbing some more. Squall's body responded instantly, fingers tight in Irvine's hair, his whole body tensing up, thighs clenching in the same rhythm Irvine was using to stroke and suck him.

It felt so damn good, that he could do this to Squall, to rouse his body to pleasure in an instant, over and over. That he could distract him from the responsibility and duty that hung over him and help him to be a normal eighteen-year old boy, impulsive and reckless and unashamedly horny.

At least until the next crisis struck. Irvine felt a pang of guilt: after all, Cass was his friend, he ought to call her, and there was a crisis on, but, oh, gods, Squall felt so good, tasted so good, and they deserved this, didn't they? They'd already saved the world once. Surely that was enough?

And oh, Hyne, but it felt good. He glanced up to see Squall biting his lower lip, eyes closed tight; he watched the pleasure flicker across his lover's familiar, beautiful features. He was close; if they'd had more time Irvine might have stopped there, teased him, fucked him again, maybe. Or maybe not. There was something irresistible about Squall giving in to the demands of his body like this. Something Irvine definitely wanted to encourage.

Squall's body was building to orgasm, and his voice was louder, deep and throaty and contagiously erotic, like a growl or a lion's purr. Irvine sucked a little harder, his own sex throbbing in sympathy as he rubbed it against the covers.

"Fuck, yeah, 'vine, oh-"

Irvine moaned with satisfaction as Squall spurted on his tongue. He caught every last drop, thick and warm, but didn't swallow. When he was sure Squall had finished, he got to his knees and straddled Squall's hips, leaned down and shared Squall's load with him in a long, sticky kiss. His own cock slapped hard and heavy against Squall's belly, and he wrapped his shaking fingers around it and pumped it rapidly, still kissing Squall deep and hard. He came in just a few strokes, his cries of pleasure swallowed by Squall's mouth as his body jerked creamy stripes over Squall's belly.

The fingers in his hair were slow again, gentle, soothing, like Squall's kiss, languid and tender. Loving. He drank it in, his whole body suffused with pleasure.

He supported his weight on one hand, planted by Squall's shoulder, the other curled protectively around his cock, easing out the last few dribbles with a sigh of deep contentment.

"Mmm... oh, babe," he murmured, dropping his forehead onto Squall's. The arm he was leaning on trembled slightly, muscles twitching from sudden release; he kissed Squall on the nose and sat back.

"You made me sticky," said Squall, reaching down to spread Irvine's semen over his pale skin.

Irvine swallowed, hard.

"Need to shower now," said Squall, blue-grey eyes teasing him from under long, dark lashes.

"No," said Irvine. "Just stay like that, forever. That would be fine." His fingers joined Squall's, spreading his come over one nipple, bringing it instantly erect. "I don't think we can stop," he said, faintly. The blood was still roaring in his ears, his heartbeat still stronger than it had any right to be. "I think we're going to be on this bed, fucking, forever."

"We'll get hungry eventually," Squall pointed out. "And they'd send people. To interrupt."

Irvine smiled. "We could tell them to fuck off," he suggested.

Squall's hand folded over his, drew it up to be kissed.

"I'll wave Lionheart about a bit," he said. "That usually makes people run away."

Irvine's smile grew a little more foolish; he brushed the hair back from Squall's eyes so he could see them properly. "You still happy?" he asked.

"Oh yes," said Squall. "Still happy."

"Me too," said Irvine. "But we have to go save the girl, don't we? And kick Seifer's ass."

"Yeah," said Squall. "Again."

Irvine sighed heavily. "Okay, then. Shower it is."

He climbed reluctantly from Squall's damp and sticky body, reaching out a hand to help him up.

"Hey, Squall," he said, retrieving a towel from the radiator, still half damp from their last trip to the shower.

"Yeah?"

"You know you said I was a sex god compared to Seifer?"

Squall snorted. "Don't get carried away, Kinneas."

But his legs were still trembling, Irvine noticed, just a little.

"Did he ever-"

"Irvine, don't."

Irvine looked up sharply, something in him responding instantly to the change of tone in Squall's voice.

"Don't what?"

"Don't keep asking about him." He took the towel Irvine held out for him, and padded off to the shower, his eyes hidden behind his bangs.

"Sorry," said Irvine, following him. "I didn't mean to bug you, babe."

"It's not as if I ever ask about your exes," Squall said reasonably. He pulled open the glass door to the shower cubicle, and turned the tap on, snatching his hand back quickly from the freezing water. "Damn. Needs to warm up a bit."

"You can ask me if you like," said Irvine.

"It's not as if I've got a month free," Squall said, shooting Irvine a sly look.

Irvine sputtered indignantly, and pushed Squall under the cold water; as always, Squall's reflexes were quicker than his own, and somehow he found himself being pulled in after him and yanked directly under the shower head. He swore loudly as the icy water smacked his shoulders and back, snatching his breath away.

Squall grinned at him, for all that he was shivering himself.

Irvine pushed him roughly against the tiles, and kissed him, taking refuge from the freezing spray in the warmth of Squall's mouth, the press of their bodies creating a comforting, spreading heat between them.

"It doesn't matter," said Squall, his hands settling at the small of Irvine's back and pulling him closer still. The water was starting to run warm at last, and it plastered Squall's hair to his head, dripped down his face, beading on his smooth skin. He looked more beautiful than ever. "It doesn't matter what happened before. It doesn't matter."

"Of course," said Irvine. "Sorry, babe."

Squall grunted, pressing strong fingers into the muscles of Irvine's lower back, easing out the tension Irvine hadn't even realised was gathering there.

The door chime sounded.

Squall cursed, and just for an instant he looked as resentful as Irvine felt.

"I'll go," said Irvine. "You're the one who's sticky, after all."

Squall growled at him, and reached for the soap.

Irvine dragged himself away, snagging a towel and wrapping it firmly round his waist. It occurred to him as he opened the door that maybe he should have got dressed, because appearing half-naked and dripping wet in Squall's doorway was pretty much advertising things that Squall would probably prefer him to be, well, discreet about, at any rate. But by then, of course, it was too late.

Fortunately he came face to face with a grinning Selphie, who promptly dipped around him and into Squall's quarters with no more than a giggle.

"Hi, Seffie. Come in, why don't ya..."

Selphie plonked a file down on the coffee table in the middle of the living area. "Thanks. Sorry if I interrupted anything," she said with a smirk.

"No, you're not. You're gloating," Irvine pointed out.

"I have every right to," said Selphie. "It's not my fault you're driving me mad with jealousy."

Irvine enjoyed a fleeting moment of delight before she put him firmly in his place.

"What I'd give for a night with Squall. Is he as good as he looks? I've always wondered."

"Seffie!"

"Just asking. Hey, look, files. Security reports." She poked him in the ribs. "Some of us have been working, you know."

"Thanks. I think."

"You're welcome. You look happy. If a little wet."

"I am," he said. "Very. It's... I haven't felt this way for a long time, Sef. Not since..."

They looked at each other for a moment, something passing, unspoken, between them.

"Good," said Selphie, eventually. "That's good."

Irvine smiled.

"You'd better go get him," she said. "Laguna's organised a briefing for ten-thirty."

But just at that moment Squall appeared at the doorway, immaculately dressed in his SeeD uniform, only his damp hair to suggest that he hadn't just stepped from his office.

"Get dressed, Kinneas," he said, Commander-voice tempered by the flicker of a twinkle in his eyes. "Time for work."

* * * * * * *

Squall tried hard to concentrate on what Laguna was saying, and to ignore the brush of Irvine's foot against his own under the table.

"He can't have left the City, or at least we don't think so. He must still be here somewhere." Laguna sounded as though he was talking about a set of lost keys, rather than an archvillain and kidnapper.

"Damn the boy," muttered Quistis. "Doesn't he ever learn?"

"Has he been acting oddly at all?" asked Squall. "I thought he had to report in to Cid once a week?"

"Cid would have told us if he hadn't, I'm sure," said Quistis.

"I want you to talk to Cid, and to Fujin and Raijin," Squall told her. "Find out anything you can: how he's been behaving, if he gave any hint of what he's up to, anything."

"Of course," said Quistis.

"And while you're at it, I want to know if he's likely to have any GFs, and if so which ones and how he could've got hold of them."

Quistis nodded.

"Could we go look for him?" said Zell. He was flicking a pencil deftly through his fingers at a startling rate; to his irritation, Squall kept catching the movement out of the corner of his eye.

"That would help," Laguna said, before Squall had a chance to answer. "Yes, by all means."

Squall was about to snap that Zell was under his command, not Laguna's, and if Zell didn't put that pencil down he'd find it rammed up his nostril, but he felt the press of Irvine's foot on top of his under the table. He turned to glare at his lover, but Irvine just shoved a piece of paper in front of him: a note?

_~Be nice. Everyone's stressed about Seifer. Can I suck your cock again later?~_

Squall stared at Irvine's messy handwriting, completely dumbstruck. Eventually Laguna's voice penetrated his stunned mind.

"Squall? I said, if that's okay with you? If we can use your people?"

Squall looked up, trying desperately to get his brain to work again. "Yes," he croaked, and cleared his throat. "Of course. We're at your disposal."

He scribbled quickly on Irvine's note and slid it back.

_~Thanks. Only if I get to suck yours.~_

Irvine grinned broadly.

"Good," said Zell. "I am _so_ looking forward to kicking Almasy's butt again."

"Not on your own," said Squall, desperately trying to keep the thought Irvine had planted in his mind under control. "As soon as he gets found, I want to know. We've no idea what power he might have picked up, but think about this: he got into the palace, and into Odine's lab, without anyone even seeing him. That tells me he's got some kind of magic from somewhere."

"You mean he might be invisible?" said Selphie. "Cool. I've always wondered-"

"Not cool." Squall cut her off sharply. "Dangerous!" He was about to launch into a tirade, but caught himself, remembering what Irvine had pointed out to him. _They're uptight. We're all uptight, this is way too close to home. Be patient, damnit._ "I've underestimated Seifer too many times, Selph," he continued in a gentler tone. "If he's really managed to get himself invisible, whether it's by magic or something else, or even if he's just damn good at hiding from us, I don't like it. I want him out in the open where I can see what we're dealing with. Okay?"

Selphie nodded, silent. Squall pretended not to notice that she stuck her tongue out at him when he turned to Laguna. For some reason it didn't annoy him; possibly because Irvine chose that particular moment to drop his pencil on the floor and bent to retrieve it, making sure he got a good grope of Squall's leg on the way up.

Squall concentrated on breathing, and wondered, not for the first time, what he'd got himself into with Irvine. He counted to ten and wrestled his body back under control, forcing himself to ignore the warm tingle Irvine had sent rushing through his body.

"We'll try and track down Cass," he heard himself say to Laguna. "If I can bring her here, will Odine's team be able to help her?"

"Of course," said Laguna. "We can help her to contain her powers, to understand them. We'll keep her safe."

"I'll brief the team," added Kiros.

"Thanks," said Squall. "I think that's it, then. Let's get on with the search. And Quisty, Selphie, I need to talk to you about Trabia."

"Oh!" said Selphie. "Really? Only I thought with all this it would have to wait-"

"No," said Squall, allowing himself to give her a little smile. "I think we've already waited long enough, don't you?"

Selphie beamed at him, and winked. Squall suddenly found himself wondering what she and Irvine had been talking about while he was in the shower that morning.

Not that it mattered, of course. It was over between her and Irvine, after all. He trusted Irvine.

Mostly.

He couldn't help but think back to the previous day, to finding Irvine in the back room of the Torama, covered in lipstick and guilt.

What if he hadn't interrupted?

"Squall?"

Squall started at the sound of his own name, and realised Kiros had been asking him a question.

"Sorry?" His voice came out more sharply than he'd intended.

"Could we have Irvine this afternoon, to work with Zell on the search?"

"Yes, of course." It made perfect sense: Zell was wound tight as a spring. Irvine was the best person to keep him from going off the deep end, help to channel his energies where they could do some good.

He would have suggested it himself, if he hadn't had a thought, just one tiny, wicked thought at the back of his mind that maybe after his meeting with the girls they could sneak back to his room and-

Squall swallowed hard, willing himself to concentrate on Kiros as he outlined logistics and talked about search patterns. Here he was, involved in a meeting to deploy the full force of the Estharian military and the finest of Balamb's SeeDs in recovering a world-famous and potentially dangerous scientist, and he was trying to plan how he could run off with his boyfriend for a blow job.

He ignored the scratching of Irvine's pencil across his pad, and untangled his foot from Irvine's. This was no time to be passing notes and playing footsie like a lovesick cadet. This was about Seifer, and where Seifer was concerned, any weakness was dangerous. He'd exploit anything, if it meant he won. And especially to beat Squall.

And whatever else happened, one thing had always been crystal clear to Squall, and always would be.

Whatever the cost, Seifer must never win.

* * * * * * *

By the end of an afternoon with Zell that had felt like taking an over-enthusiastic and untrained dog for a walk through a park full of cats, Irvine wanted nothing more than a long soak in the bath, preferably with a naked Squall, something laid back and slinky on the sound system, and the judicious application of a bottle of elixir.

Instead he faced an agitated Squall, whatever crap passed for Estharian pop music, and a ten minute shower if he was lucky.

For once, Irvine was dismayed to find that Squall wanted to go clubbing.

"Aren't you worried about her?" Squall asked him, surprised. Irvine felt a stab of guilt.

"Of course I am, babe. Just tired. Give me half an hour, and I'll be right. Sorry. Zell's hard work, you know? The slightest hint of someone over five foot six with blonde hair and he wanted to pummel them just to be on the safe side."

"Oh. Yeah. No luck, though?"

"Nope." Irvine pulled his shirt over his head, enjoying the stretch of tired muscles. "Not a hint. He's well underground, or else he's gone. And Cass hasn't been back?"

"Not that I could tell. I left messages everywhere. Then I got Quistis to leave messages, just in case it was me. After last night and... you know, what happened." Squall turned away, picking up his watch from the bedside table and clipping it onto his wrist. He'd already showered and dressed, in ordinary leather pants and t-shirt.

Not that there was anything ordinary about Squall in leather pants.

Irvine watched Squall's butt as he moved about the room, combing his hair, tucking his shirt into his pants, pulling a belt out of a drawer. He suddenly started to feel a whole lot better.

"I shouldn't have left her out there on her own," Squall said. "I should've..."

"Cass is a big girl. She can handle herself, believe me."

All the same, Irvine had a nagging worry himself that wouldn't quite go away. It wasn't like Cass to just disappear. But then, the Cass he'd known hadn't been a sorceress. Or, for that matter, the kind to kiss someone else's boyfriend just to cause a distraction, and then just run and hide.

It suddenly dawned on Irvine that Squall was right. They should be worried. Very worried indeed.

Irvine was showered and dressed in ten minutes flat.

There was something about going to a club three times in as many days that took the gloss off the experience. It was early, of course, and without the people the seedy corners, scuffed wooden floor and faded walls were more conspicuous. There was no buzz, no atmosphere, just loud music, tinny without the bodies to absorb it, the lights stark and too bright with no flesh to play on. Irvine recognised the girl behind the bar; she was the same one from last night. She looked tired, and irritable, even though she smiled as they approached.

Irvine ordered drinks; he knew that Squall wouldn't want to stay long, but after the day he'd had he needed a beer. Besides, it gave him an excuse to tip the bartender; he figured she was covering Cass for another double shift, and he somehow felt responsible.

"She's not back then?" he asked, as she flipped the caps of two chilled bottles and slid them across the bar.

"She's not coming back at all," the girl said. "She's gone."

"Oh." Irvine's heart sank.

"Gone where?" Squall asked. "The City's closed, isn't it?"

"So they say. That happens from time to time in Esthar. We're not keen on outsiders."

"No," said Irvine. "Any idea where she'd go? We've got something really important to tell her. Something she'd really like to know."

"She didn't even have the decency to tell me in person. She sent her new friend over there."

Irvine followed her gaze across the bar area to a shadowy corner.

_Tanya?_

Squall's grip tensed around his beer bottle.

"I didn't know she knew Cass," said Irvine.

"Me neither. Funny how you think you know someone, eh?"

Irvine folded a generous amount of bills and slid them under the bowl of peanuts in the bar before he followed Squall over to Tanya's table.

"Babe, let me," he whispered, lengthening his stride to catch Squall up. He had a feeling Squall wasn't keen on Tanya, and much as he hated to admit it, it really did look as if she knew something they didn't.

Squall ignored him. "Where's Cass?" he demanded, in full commander mode.

"And you must be Leonhart," said Tanya. "How pretty."

Irvine was glad at that moment that the Torama didn't allow weapons. If Lionheart had been tucked into Squall's belts, Tanya would probably be pinned against the wall right now, and almost certainly bleeding from several places.

"We're just concerned," Irvine said. "We're friends of hers."

"Really, Kinneas? Even after what she was up to with your boyfriend last night? You've got tolerant in your old age. Or are they letting you join in?"

Squall's voice cut through the air like ice. "You will tell me where she is. It's up to you how much it hurts."

She looked back at him with admirable defiance. Not many people would even consider trying to face down Squall when he looked that menacing. "You really are alike," she murmured.

"What?" said Irvine, confused, but they both ignored him.

"Where is she?" said Squall.

"She's gone away. That's all I know."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes. It would be better for you if you didn't."

"He has friends in high places," Irvine cut in. "I'd tell him, if I were you."

"I don't know where she is," said Tanya, apparently unperturbed, tossing her golden curls over one shoulder. "I can't tell you what I don't know. I'm an innocent civilian. You can't hurt me. It would _really_ upset your father, for one thing."

Squall's fists clenched at his sides. She was right, of course.

"You can't leave the City," Irvine said. "We'll just keep asking 'til you tell us."

"No, you won't," said Tanya. "Fuck, what's this woman to you anyway? You've had better, Kinneas."

"She's a friend," said Irvine.

"I didn't think you stayed friends with the girls you screwed. Never worked, you said."

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," said Irvine. "But that has nothing to do with Cass."

"That's where you're wrong," she said, and got smoothly to her feet, hitching her handbag over one shoulder.

"Why? What's it to do with her?"

"You'll see. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got an appointment. I'll see you again, boys."

She brushed past Squall's elbow as she passed. "I'd get out while you can, if I were you," she stage-whispered in his ear. "He can't be trusted."

Squall glared at her.

"He's only fucking you because he's already had all the women that are desperate enough to sleep with him."

Squall's eyes went wide; Irvine thought for a minute he really was going to hit her.

"That's enough," he said. "If you don't have anything to tell us I'd get out the fuck out of here, fast, I were you. Before-"

"Before what? Before you take me into custody and get someone else to hit me? Before you follow me outside and beat me up in an alley somewhere? I can't see how that's your style, somehow, Kinneas. You'll let me go, because if you don't the person who's expecting me will take great pleasure in taking out his frustration on your dear little friend. You wouldn't want that, would you? Such a pretty girl, and all. So much power, too, and bless her, she doesn't even know it."

"How did you-"

"Good night, gentlemen." She pushed past Squall, and to Irvine's surprise he let her go.

"Squall, what..." Squall didn't even watch her go; he was seething to himself, fists clenched tight at his sides, eyes glittering silver, staring at the space she'd just left.

"Seifer," he growled. "It has to be Seifer she's working for."

"What? No, surely not, that's too much of a co-incidence."

"No. Not a co-incidence. A plan."

Irvine opened his mouth to ask Squall to explain, but at the last minute he decided against it. Squall looked incredibly angry, understandably frustrated, hot as hell and not in the mood to be questioned.

"I've had it with this place," said Squall. "We're going home."

* * * * * * *

The frustration was still flaring in Squall's eyes when they got back to the Palace. He kissed Irvine hard as soon as they were through the bedroom door, twisting one hand in his hair and tugging the shirt out of his jeans.

"Someone's feeling frisky," Irvine observed, obediently raising his hands above his head so Squall could drag his t-shirt from his body.

"Hn," grunted Squall, and kissed him again, harder still, teeth clashing. He set to work on Irvine's belt buckle, swearing under his breath when it caught in the strap of his watch.

Irvine was happy to go along with this sudden show of passion. At least Squall seemed to have walked off a good deal of the anger on the way back, and had even conceded that Seifer's involvement was purely hypothetical. He helped Squall with the recalcitrant belt, and set about stripping Squall's clothes off too. Squall grasped Irvine's cock as soon as it was freed from denim and cotton, and started to pump it urgently.

"Hey, lover, you carry on like that and your hand's gonna get wet," husked Irvine, pushing tight leather off Squall's perfect butt.

"So? You'll just get hard again," said Squall between violent, frenzied kisses. "What's the problem?"

Irvine chuckled. "I'm glad you have such faith in my abilities."

"Hard evidence," muttered Squall, and staggered back to the bed, pulling Irvine after him.

"Hmnghnf," said Irvine, his response confounded by Squall's renewed kissing.

Squall nipped his way none too gently down Irvine's neck, clamping his mouth over the tight muscle of his shoulder and sucking to a bruise. Irvine threw his head to one side, stretching the skin tight under Squall's teeth and lips and tongue. He reached between them to find Squall's cock, rock hard and dripping between their bellies. He gripped it by the root and ran his thumb over the wet tip.

"Fuck me," Squall growled into his ear, pumping harder on his cock and rocking his own in Irvine's grip.

"If you say so, babe." Irvine rolled Squall onto his back, and grabbed the lube from under the pillow. Squall spread his legs, lifted his cock and balls to allow Irvine easy access to his ass.

Irvine smiled, flipping the cap of the lube and squirting a generous blob into his palm.

"Fuck, but you're hot," he said.

Squall tossed his head from side to side, eyes closed. "Just-" he said, his fingers clawing at the bedclothes. "Fast. Now."

"Okay, babe, okay. Just got to make sure it's good, eh? I've got my reputation to consider, after all," he teased.

Squall made an odd kind of whimpering noise in the back of his throat. "Just fuck me, Kinneas."

Something about the way Squall spat out his name rang an alarm bell somewhere in the back of Irvine's lust-hazed mind. There was something other than urgent passion in his voice, a desperation borne of more than simple need. Irvine watched Squall's hooded eyes and found his entrance with one slick finger. Squall was tight, tense, closed. Irvine stroked gently, breathing deeply to calm his own desire.

Squall growled frustration.

"Look at me, lover," said Irvine. Squall's eyes opened, dark with conflict, need, uncertainty. "Are you okay?"

"Take me, fuck me, _now_, damnit..."

"Shhh. You're not ready, babe," said Irvine, gently, brushing the Squall's bangs back from his face. "Just relax. Let me make you feel good, huh?"

"I want you inside me," said Squall, shaking his head to dislodge Irvine's fingers, his hair falling back in eyes. "You're driving me mad... can't wait..."

"It'll hurt," said Irvine, stubbornly. "You're not ready."

"I don't care," said Squall, teeth clenched. "Just fuck me. Now. Hard. Fast. Now."

Irvine guided his cock into position and pushed a little, but Squall's body was closed tight. This wasn't right.

He'd promised.

"What, 'vine? What's wrong?"

His fingers clenched around Irvine's hips, hard enough to leave a mark on the golden skin.

"I won't hurt you," said Irvine, firmly.

"Oh, come on, I'm not a fucking _girl_, Irvine."

He pulled away, and sat back on his heels.

"I don't hurt girls, either."

A flash of repentance crossed Squall's face, but he didn't say anything. Irvine frowned, angry at himself for going along with this again. Damnit, he should have known.

He put one hand on Squall's knee soft, reassuring. "I think I understand, babe. This is about Seifer, isn't it?"

Squall glared at him, furious, rejected and frightened all at once. "I don't know what you mean."

"This is how Seifer liked it. This is what Seifer showed you."

"Don't be stupid," spat Squall through gritted teeth. "Let me go."

The idea that Irvine was in any way restraining the slayer of sorceresses by kneeling there with one gentle hand on his knee was more than faintly ridiculous. But Irvine didn't laugh.

"No," he said.

Squall thumped his head back on the pillow in frustration.

Irvine watched him, trying to think. He struggled to contain his anger at Seifer, knowing that this was a knife edge; if he got this wrong, Squall would retreat into bitter hurt and silence. "So what was it? Did he like it rough? Knock you about a bit? Did he get off on hurting you?"

"No," said Squall. "It wasn't like that... I, it, it doesn't matter."

"No?"

"Besides, who says it's anything to do with Seifer? Why does it have to be your way all the time? Has is occurred to you that maybe I like it rough?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said Irvine, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because you seemed to like it so much last time, what with the crying and all."

Squall glared at him. "Don't be stupid. I didn't cry."

"No." Irvine conceded. "But by Hyne, you wanted to."

They stared at each other for a moment.

Squall was the first to look away. "It's no big deal. If you don't want to fuck..."

Irvine closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, still trying to keep his temper in check. "I just want to understand."

"There's nothing to understand." Squall pulled himself up, knocked Irvine's hand off his knee and started to shuffle off the bed, out of Irvine's reach. "I'm going to get a shower."

Irvine grabbed an arm and pulled him back, grasped the back of his head in one broad hand and kissed him, not hard but firmly, holding him still until he finally gave in and started to kiss back.

"That's better," said Irvine, pulling back just far enough to be able to see Squall's eyes, registering renewed lust in them, and an odd determination.

Squall threw himself back on the bed, pulling Irvine on top of him, and kissed him twice as passionately, twice as sensuously as he'd just been kissed. He nipped and teased Irvine's lips, bullied Irvine's tongue with his own, wound his fingers in Irvine's hair. He tugged, just a little.

"Oh babe," moaned Irvine. "Oh, gods, babe..."

"Irvine..." Squall's voice was deep, husky, still with that edge of desperation. "Fuck me. Please?"

Irvine's heart sank. "No. Not the way you want it. Sorry, babe. I won't hurt you."

"But it's what I..."

"I've got an idea." Irvine rolled them both over, taking Squall so much by surprise that he didn't have a chance to resist. He grunted as the full weight of Squall's body landed on his. "You want it? You want it hard? You want to prove you're not a girl? Well, then, commander, why don't _you_ fuck _me_."

Squall's eyes flared with surprise. "But..."

"You want it to hurt? You can hurt me all you like, you can hurt yourself using me, if you must, but I _won't_ hurt _you_. Understand?"

Squall looked thunder at him.

"What's it to be, Squall? You want to fuck, or what?"

Squall's lips twisted into a snarl. "You want fucked, Kinneas? I can do that."

"Fine." Irvine reached for the lube, slapped the fat tube into Squall's palm. "Do it then. Hard as you like."

Squall looked doubtful for a moment, but only for a moment. He grabbed Irvine's wrists and pinned them to the bed with a one-handed grip while he squirted a line of lube up the length of his cock, not even flinching at the cold of the gel, and spread it swiftly over his sex with one trembling hand. He knelt between Irvine's thighs, hitched his legs over his shoulders, and in an instant he was poised at Irvine's entrance, starting to push.

He looked down at Irvine, angry, more than anything else.

Irvine looked back.

"Go on then," he said. "Fuck me."

Squall swallowed hard, uncertainty creeping onto his face, and drew back, one hand still on his cock, the other arm folding defensively across his ribs.

"Well?" Irvine persisted, holding his wrists crossed above his head even now that Squall had released his grip on them.

"What am I doing?" Squall whispered. "What the fuck am I doing?"

Irvine reached one hand up to gently touch Squall's hair. "It's okay."

Squall shook his head. His eyes were glistening: Irvine could tell he was fighting tears. "No. Not okay. No."

Then he was gone, his feet thumping heavy on the floor as he ran to the bathroom, the door swooshing closed behind him.

There was a moment of quiet, and then the muffled hiss of the shower.

Irvine realised his hands were trembling; he flexed his fingers as he shuffled off the bed. The room felt chilly all of a sudden; he shivered and reached for his shirt, fumbled with the buttons that Squall hadn't bothered to undo, and slid his arms into the sleeves. Pulling the soft cotton around him, he padded to the bathroom door.

It wasn't locked.

"Squall? You okay?"

He waited for an answer, stroking one finger down the line where the door met the frame. None came, so he pressed the button, and stepped inside.

Squall was sitting under the shower, back against the tile, knees hugged tight under his chin. He looked up at Irvine as he came in, grey eyes dark with anguish, hair dripping across his face so that Irvine couldn't be sure what was tears and what was just water.

Irvine knelt just outside the shower cubicle, and reached his hand in under the spray. Slowly, hesitantly, Squall found it with his own, and locked his fingers with Irvine's.

"You're all wet," observed Irvine.

The tiniest hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Squall's lips.

Irvine rubbed his thumb over Squall's knuckles. "You okay?"

"You were right," Squall whispered.

Irvine watched him carefully, leaned just a little closer. "Seifer?"

Squall nodded. "I'm sorry. Oh, gods, I'm sorry."

In a moment Irvine was in the shower with him, putting his arms around him whether he liked it or not, nuzzling his face into Squall's neck.

"Don't be sorry," he breathed. "No need to be sorry."

Squall had frozen, his body stiff and unresponsive; then Irvine stroked his wet hair, just once from crown to tip, and he let out a huge sob, then another, and another. Irvine held him as he cried, fists clenched and digging into Irvine's back, tense, painful tears.

"That's it," he soothed. "Okay, it's okay. It's okay."

"I didn't... I just wanted to... I... oh, gods, Irvine, don't leave me. Please, don't leave me."

A chill swept down Irvine's spine. "I'm not going anywhere, love. I'm here. It's okay."

"Everyone I... everyone..."

_Everyone you love leaves you. Raine, Laguna, Ellone, Matron, Rinoa. Even fucking Seifer._

"I'm not going anywhere," he repeated. "I promise." _I love you._

Squall's fists uncurled enough to clutch Irvine's sodden shirt, he shifted his legs so that Irvine could kneel between them, hold him closer.

"I don't... deserve..."

Irvine couldn't bear it; he covered Squall's mouth with his own, stopping his words, soothing, comforting.

"It's not you," he whispered. "Not you. I don't know what happened, but-"

Squall was still, his body stiff and rigid against Irvine's. Silent now, closed.

"Tell me," said Irvine.

Squall gave the slightest shake of his head, and made to pull away, but Irvine wouldn't let him. They fought for an instant, Squall wrenching himself from Irvine's arms, Irvine holding him stubbornly close, and then Squall surrendered, falling limp in Irvine's embrace, slumping against him as if he'd passed out.

Irvine hugged him close, and pressed his lips to his hair.

Squall's voice came, low, hesitant, with the barest edge of anger. "He said I was born to be fucked."

Irvine slowly slicked Squall's bangs back from his face, finding the soft grey eyes underneath, big and hurt, still wet with tears.

"He said I should have been a girl. I was too pretty to be a boy. A wuss. Only good for fucking and fighting."

Squall leaned back against the tile, pulling Irvine with him.

"He said men didn't love men. Just women. They might fuck men, if there aren't women, but never... it was never anything else."

"Talking out of his arse as usual," said Irvine with a shiver; part rage, part cold. The heat had run out of the shower now, and the water stung his skin.

"I wanted to believe him. I did believe him. It was easier to go along with that than to think that I-"

"That you might love him?"

"Fuck, no. That I might be gay. That I didn't just want sex, and sex was all he could give me."

"So you didn't love him?" Irvine shivered again, definitely the chill this time.

"You're cold," said Squall, surprised.

"A bit," Irvine confessed. "Could we take this somewhere more comfortable, d'you think?"

Squall stared at him, as if realising for the first time that they were huddled dripping wet in the shower. "Oh. Yes."

"Come on, let's go to bed," said Irvine. "We can talk there. Okay?"

Squall nodded, and allowed Irvine to pull him to his feet, to coax him out of the shower and wrap a warm towel around him. He scrubbed his face with the soft fabric, pulling it around his shoulders like a cloak. He looked oddly frail, standing there dripping wet, lips faintly blue from cold. Vulnerable. Young. A vision further from a saver of worlds was harder to imagine.

Irvine grabbed more towels from the cupboard and led them back to the bedroom. He stripped off his wet shirt, and set about drying himself off enough to get into bed, anxious to have Squall back in his arms before he closed off again.

By the time he'd rubbed his hair halfway dry, Squall was already in bed, lying on his side, head propped on his elbow, watching him. Irvine twisted his damp hair into a rough plait down his back. He was still chilly; the weather must have taken a change for the worse, and for all their technological abilities, Estharian heating systems left a lot to be desired.

He got into bed, shuffled close to Squall, took his hand and stole a brief kiss.

"Your feet are fucking freezing," Squall complained.

"So warm them up," said Irvine, with a grin.

Squall smiled at him, a tiny smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"He was wrong," said Irvine. "Seifer."

The smile disappeared, confusion returned to Squall's eyes; he didn't actually move away, but he may as well have done. It took all of Irvine's resolve to continue; he would so dearly have loved to curl up with Squall in his arms and go to sleep. But they had to have this conversation one day, and every time he put it off, he felt as though he was adding to the lie Seifer had burrowed away into Squall's self.

"You _know_ he was wrong, Squall."

Squall looked less than convinced. "He knew before I did, I think. That I was... that I preferred men. Somehow, he knew."

Irvine thought carefully before he said anything else. It would be easy to just tell Squall that Seifer talked rubbish, but that didn't mean that Squall would believe him. "How did the two of you get together?" he asked, eventually. "It's alright," he gave a little grin. "I'm not the jealous kind, remember?"

_Yeah. Like hell I'm not._

"We were away on a field trip, in the mountains." Squall spoke softly, looking down at their joined hands, rubbing his fingers gently against Irvine's. "Had to share a tent. I don't know what Quistis was thinking, but... that's how it was. It wasn't a big tent, we were side by side in our sleeping bags, and he was asking me stuff: had I ever been with a girl, had I gone all the way, that kind of thing. So I told him about Nuska, just to get him off my back, really. I didn't tell him much. He laughed at me, said I may as well be a virgin, and went on to tell me all about his exploits. I'm pretty sure he made half of them up, but... after a bit he said he was getting horny, asked if I was. I said I was. Then he suggested we whack off, seeing as we were both guys and needed to get to sleep. That seemed okay."

"Did you fancy him?" Irvine wanted, very badly he realised, for him to say no.

"Yes," said Squall.

"Oh."

"I hadn't thought about it much, before. Well, maybe a little, but... It was his eyes, I think, there was something about his eyes-"

"Yeah, well. You were saying." Irvine kept his eyes firmly on a bit of invisible fluff he was picking off his pillow with his spare hand.

"I never thought anything would ever happen, though. I didn't even know what did happen, between guys, back then. I thought I was straight, only... well, anyway. He started to jerk off, under the sleeping bag, so I did the same, and after a bit he said the covers were getting in the way, so he was going to unzip it, and he did... I couldn't help looking. He liked that. A lot."

"I bet he did," muttered Irvine, darkly.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing. Carry on."

"He asked me if I wanted to help him out. So I did. That first night that's all we did, jerked each other off... the next night he got me to suck him and by the end of the week he was fucking me."

Irvine couldn't help himself. "Bastard," he spat.

Squall squeezed his hand. "I wanted him to, Irvine. He didn't force me or anything."

"Hn. So what then? You dated him?"

"Not really. We just fucked from time to time. It didn't change anything, we were still at each others' throats most days. He went out with girls, sometimes. It suited me. I didn't want anything else. No strings, no ties, no feelings. Just the fucking."

"You didn't want more?"

"No, not exactly. Then... this thing happened."

Irvine hardly dared ask. "You fell in love with him?"

Squall looked almost shocked. "Fuck, no! No, nothing like that. I don't think I was capable, back then. Gods, no. But I did... There was this girl, once, who Seifer liked a lot, I think. More than he'd admit. She dumped him, and he was cut up about it. I found him in the training centre, crying, and it was okay at the time, I tried to make him feel better, though I didn't much know what to do. I don't think I helped much, although I tried. He was never the same after that. That was that."

"What was what?"

"He changed. He wanted more than I could give him. He wanted me to love him, in some odd, twisted kind of way. He wanted me to take the place of whoever she was. It wasn't love really, but... when I turned him down, he left. We had a big fight, he made out it was me who wanted a relationship, not him."

"And that's when he started with the men can't love men crap?"

"I guess. It sounds stupid, I know, but..." fresh tears welled in Squall's eyes. "It sticks, you know?"

"It sounds to me as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you."

"I suppose. I hadn't thought about it much; it didn't matter. It was just sex, and, but... and when Tanya said what she said..."

Irvine's eyes went wide. Damn. Of course. He should have realised. "She said I..."

"Only wanted me because you couldn't get a girl."

"Squall, you know that's bullshit, right?"

Squall shrugged. "For me, sure. But you might like it better if... if I..."

"No. Oh no. Don't you dare think that. No."

"Seifer used to say..."

"I don't give a fuck what Seifer used to say. Seifer is a fucked up cunt who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you. Squall, look at me."

Squall lifted his eyes, confused as ever.

"I don't want you _despite_ you being a man, Squall. I want you _because_ you're a man. I want your ass and your cock and your fucking obstinate pig headed male attitude. Being bisexual doesn't mean I don't mind one way or the other. Being a man is part of who you are, and I want _you_. This is it. You're it. I've arrived."

Squall stared at him.

"You're not a girl," Irvine allowed himself to smile. "I like that about you."

"Guns and women," Squall said. "You always used to say. Guns and women. I knew that you'd fooled around with Nida, but..."

Irvine's smile turned into a full-on leer.

"You don't think I really meant 'guns' guns, do you, babe?"

Squall frowned for a moment, until finally the penny dropped. "Oh! You mean..."

"For a clever guy you can sure be slow on the uptake, Leonhart. I'll forgive you just this once, though. It's a Galbadian expression, mostly. I know you've lost touch with your roots."

"Oh," said Squall. "I see."

"And you have the best gun I've ever seen," said Irvine. "Absolutely the best."

Squall snorted. "You can't have got about as much as they say, then."

Irvine laughed, and squeezed Squall's hand. "You'd be surprised," he said, fairly certain it was true. "I did some mad things, back when I was a cadet. I'll tell you one day."

"I'm not sure I want to know," said Squall, but Irvine could see the curiosity burning in his eyes.

He leaned closer, and kissed Squall softly, briefly, rubbed noses before he pulled back, and smiled.

Squall smiled back, slow and hesitant, but still a smile.

"That's better," whispered Irvine.

"Yes," breathed Squall.

Irvine kissed him again, just a little more firmly, a little longer, sliding an arm around his waist and tugging him closer. Squall responded with a little moan and ran his hand down the curve of Irvine's spine to settle on his ass. Irvine wriggled closer still, until their cocks were touching, twitching back to life again, slowly uncoiling, flexing, rubbing sensitive skin to sensitive skin.

Irvine slid his tongue slowly out of Squall's mouth, licked along his jawline. "You still want me, babe?"

Squall's hand tensed against his ass.

"It's yours if you want it." Irvine nuzzled at Squall's neck. "D'you want it, babe?"

Squall made a little strangled noise; his other hand clutched Irvine's hair.

"Only if you want it," purred Irvine.

"I want it," Squall choked out. "Oh, fuck, I want it."

Irvine felt a broad grin spread across his face. "Then take it."

He rolled onto his back, pulling Squall on top of him; Squall kissed him, urgently now, passionately but with no anger, just lust and excitement and maybe a little trace of nerves.

"I've never-"

"That's fine," said Irvine. "Just take it slow."

"Hm."

Irvine let Squall direct things after that, melting under his long, firm kisses, hips flexing, fingers smoothing through dark, silky bangs. Squall seemed determined to take his time, washing his tongue over Irvine's nipples, trailing his fingers down Irvine's side. "I'd say this was a special occasion," he murmured. "You got that elixir somewhere?"

"Yeah, but... lube's better." Irvine teased Squall's ear with the tip of his tongue. "I want to feel you, babe. Just you. Inside me. Just you. Okay?"

"Okay."

Squall rolled off Irvine's body for a moment, to retreive the lube from the bedside table. Irvine watched as he slicked his own cock, so hard, so beautiful, arcing towards his navel.

Squall gently parted Irvine's thighs, and knelt between them.

Suddenly Irvine was arching his back, all his pleasure focused on the sensitive skin that was all at once vibrant and shrieking pleasure at him under Squall's careful, fluttering touch. He gasped as one finger slid just inside, then a bit further, fidgeting around a little until he found the place that made Irvine arch and moan and beg.

"So hot," Squall murmured, apparently oblivious to Irvine's desperate pleasure. "So tight."

Irvine writhed against his finger, whined when it was slowly, tantalisingly withdrawn.

"Look at me."

Irvine obediently opened his eyes. Squall was lining himself up, his cock nuzzling at Irvine's entrance. His gaze flickered up to meet Irvine's; he smiled.

"Okay?"

Irvine nodded. "Just a bit at first, just..."

Squall pushed slowly inside, waited a few moments, then pushed again, and kept pushing, sliding in, slow and easy, thick and hard, and oh gods but it felt good, to be full and stretched, and Squall buried in him, all the way, as deep and hard as he could be, and Squall was kissing him, and wrapping cool fingers around his cock and stroking; and Squall was moving, sliding back and forth, gently at first, then a little harder, but still slow, and deep, and filling him, over and over, and Squall was moaning, "oh gods, oh gods, oh gods" and looking down at him, biting his lower lip, eyes clear despite the pleasure that was threatening to overwhelm him at any instant, and it felt so good, his legs wrapped around Squall's body, his hands tangled in his hair, and he could feel himself close to coming already, far, far too soon. And Squall looked so beautiful, so stunningly, astoundingly beautiful, a mix of lust and concern in his eyes.

"That's so good," Irvine moaned. "So good, babe. So good."

Squall turned his head to kiss Irvine's wrist, darted his tongue out to lick the pale skin, the tiny bones.

"Oh gods," Squall moaned, softly, lips vibrating against his skin. "Oh gods... so... oh... oh... oh..."

His hand gripped Irvine's sex a little more tightly, moved back and forth faster,more urgently, but it was the feeling deep inside of him that rushed Irvine towards the edge: the feeling of being full, of being fucked, of Squall filling him over and over and over, of Squall plunging inside him all the way and stopping, crying out and spurting inside him, flooding him with his essence, wet and warm, little jerks of his hips driving him even further inside, spurting and spurting. Then Irvine couldn't hold it any longer; he arched his back and his body clenched tight for one toe-curling, white-knuckle moment; then there was release, unbelievable, sweet, mind-rending release. Squall collapsed on top of him, gasping; he could feel Squall's heartbeat pounding against his ribs, hot puffs of breath on his neck.

Irvine wrapped his arms tight around his lover, still inside, still as close as a person could be.

_I love you._

He kissed Squall's neck, pressed his lips to his temple.

_I love you._

Squall raised his head; Irvine brushed the hair from his eyes, and looked deep into marbled blue and grey.

"I love you."

"What?" As if he couldn't believe what he'd heard, thought it a mistake.

"I love you. I'm in love with you. I love you."

Squall's eyes widened for a moment, and then he smiled.

"Thank you," he whispered, as if it were a gift, rather than a confession.

He wiped Irvine down with a damp towel from the heap they'd abandoned by the bed, kissing his skin, tracing his tongue over Irvine's ribs and belly button, brushing lips over his sleeping cock, then tossed the towel back to the floor and curled up with his head on Irvine's shoulder, one arm curling possessively over his chest. Warm. Content. Close.

Eventually their fingers stilled in each others' hair, and they slept.


	5. Close

On the seventeenth morning that Irvine woke up with Squall, he told him that he loved him.

More than once.

Squall lay on his stomach, nose snuffling into the pillow, Irvine draped over his back. He buried his face in Squall's neck, burrowed under silky hair to press his lips against the soft skin beneath his ear and whispered the words there. Kissed his way down to the curve of neck into shoulder and said them again. Dragged his tongue over the muscular curves of Squall's arm, sucked gently at the ticklish tip of his elbow and chuckled when Squall jumped.

"Kinneas..." The usual menace of Squall's warning growl was completely undermined by the huge grin on his face. A grin still so unusual as to make Irvine's spine tingle. "You're asking for trouble..."

"Watcha gonna do? Happy me to death?"

Squall shot out his elbow, catching Irvine hard in the ribs. Irvine rolled onto his back, half laughing, half moaning. "Ow! Bastard!"

"Serves you right," Squall said, smugly. "You tickled."

"Wasn't even trying. You want to know what tickling is? I'll show you what fucking tickling is, Squall Leonhart!"

Irvine was kneeling astride Squall in an instant, pinning his hands out of the way with one of his own while he tickled mercilessly with the other, over his ribs, his tummy, the especially sensitive bits at his waist. Squall snorted and writhed and somehow managed to flip Irvine onto his side and free one hand, which he immediately put to good use in retaliation. They wrestled for a while, tangling themselves in pink and purple bedsheets, until finally, breathlessly, Irvine surrendered.

The sight of Squall leaning over him, eyes glittering with happy victory, didn't feel much like defeat, however. He tugged Squall's head down and kissed him soundly.

Squall murmured his approval; his tongue snaked inside Irvine's mouth, his fingers slid into Irvine's hair, and his cock pressed stiffly against Irvine's own.

"Mmm." Irvine flexed his hips, hands sliding down Squall's back to cup his ass. "Top or bottom?"

Squall tugged gently on Irvine's lower lip with his teeth, then drew back a little to consider. "Top, I think."

Irvine grinned. "You getting a taste for it, Commander?"

"Yeah," said Squall. "But this time I think I'll just fuck it."

Irvine had seen Squall in this mood only once or twice before. But damn, he could get used to it. He gave Squall's ass a playful smack and stretched out an arm for the lube. He'd just curled his fingers around the half-empty tube when the phone rang.

They shared a grimace and for a moment, for one glorious moment, he thought Squall was going to say 'fuck it' and let it ring.

But of course, he couldn't.

Irvine watched as Squall crawled away on all fours, sheets still tangled around his legs, lean and beautiful and just too damn tempting, as he answered the phone.

"Yes? ... Quistis... no, I'm awake..."

Squall settled on his elbows, arse in the air, and yawned. "Yeah, we went back last night. It looks as if Seifer's involved with Cass's disappearance, too. Anything from the security tapes?"

Irvine watched Squall's ass, transfixed. So tight and round and perfect. Pale skin dusted with a few fuzzy hairs; a tiny freckle at the top of his right thigh that Irvine suddenly wanted to kiss.

Squall was earnestly listening to Quistis, pretty much in full commander-mode. Oblivious to how astoundingly wanton he looked, laid out all naked and tempting, practically gift-wrapped in pink cotton.

A wicked idea sprang into Irvine's mind and refused to go away.

"Seifer must have someone on the inside," Squall was saying, "to mess with the tapes. Unless... yeah, that's what I was thinking, maybe if it was earlier than we thought, and- oh!" Squall jumped as Irvine's lube-slicked finger trailed down the crack of his ass, too startled even to fight him off. "... sorry, yeah, um..." he glared over his shoulder, but Irvine just smiled. "... I... yeah. Sorry, what did you say?"

Irvine added a little more lube and kept stroking, surprised but pleased that Squall wasn't putting up more resistance, still talking to Quistis as if he wasn't being fingered and petted in a way that made his cock swell and twitch up towards his belly.

"Did you manage to make out where he, uh, went?"

His voice was a little ragged, mind.

Grinning smugly, Irvine swirled his fingertip around Squall's anus in little circles.

"Underground? But..." Squall's free hand reached back and batted ineffectually at Irvine's; Irvine took no notice, pressing gently until his finger slipped inside Squall's ass. Squall clenched tight around it and groaned helplessly.

"... What? Sorry, no, I'm fine..." His voice wobbled; Irvine stroked his thigh soothingly as he gave him a moment to regain his composure. He had really expected Squall to hang up by now, but he simply took a deep breath and carried on talking to Quistis as if nothing was happening.

Irvine, however, was very much enjoying himself.

"A secret tunnel?"

Irvine wiggled his finger deeper, squirmed around to find Squall's prostate and started to rub. Squall's fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles drawn white from the effort of holding a conversation while Irvine tortured him like this.

"How would he know about it, though?"

It wasn't good enough, Irvine decided. Squall certainly shouldn't be capable of forming coherent sentences. But he didn't dare...

Did he?

Squall covered the mouthpiece for a second. "Stop it!" he hissed. "Irvine!"

Irvine obediently pulled his finger out of Squall's ass and shifted back, hand moving to  
Squall's hip instead.

"No, Quisty, I'm fine... What were you saying? The line's a bit- oh, fuck!"

Irvine grinned wickedly, the head of his prick slipping into Squall's hole in one slick thrust. Squall squirmed, confused, not certain whether to pull forward and escape, or to sink back onto the thick cock that was invading his body. Irvine leaned over his back and gently guided Squall's lax hand, bringing the phone back to his ear.

"Don't leave Quisty hanging, sugar," he said.

Squall whimpered.

"Quistis?" he managed, feebly. Irvine smiled as Squall's eyes slid shut, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip, already half-surrendered to pleasure. "Sorry, Irvine was... um... yeah, I'm fine. No. Listen, could I call you back later? Only, I... oh. I see. Okay, if you can't... the tunnel, you were saying about the... tunnel..."

Irvine curled his fingers around Squall's shoulder to brace himself, the other hand guiding his cock as he sank deeper.

Squall's head drooped, his back arched and he shoved backwards, taking Irvine to the hilt. Irvine bit his lip to keep from crying out, eyes tight shut, overwhelmed for a moment by the slick grip of Squall's ass.

"Yeah..." Squall murmured; Irvine couldn't tell whether it was encouragement or part of his conversation with Quistis. "Okay... yeah, carry on..."

The last vestiges of Squall-the-Commander listened - barely - to Quistis, while Squall-the-true-Galbadian threw his head back and wriggled around to claim his pleasure. Irvine started to move, rocking slowly back and forth, every stroke blissful heat and friction to his straining cock. He'd just got a good rhythm going when Squall's phone beeped again.

"Sorry," Squall gasped at Quistis, "got another call. Just a sec... oh!"

Squall froze.

"Hi Dad," he squeaked.

Squall's eyes flashed open and his head drooped; suddenly Squall's attempts at escape were wholehearted, and Irvine willingly let him go. He knelt with his forehead resting in the small of his lover's back, panting, as his cock softened stickily against his thigh. Fucking Squall while he was on the phone to Quistis felt kinky. Fucking him while he talked to his father, on the other hand...

Irvine shuddered and tumbled sideways onto the bed, pulling Squall with him.

"Quistis just told me." Squall's voice sounded drained now, faintly irritable. Irvine cuddled him closer, softly kissed his shoulder. "... Are they? Here? Okay. I'll be down in half an hour... I'm fine. Just woke up, is all... no... okay..."

The thing was, once Laguna got talking, it was always hard to shut him up. After ten minutes of holding an increasingly tense Squall while he tried to wind up both conversations, Irvine took the liberty of snatching the phone from him and turning it off. He threw it over the edge of the bed for good measure.

"Damn," he said. "Looks like you were cut off."

"Hey," said Squall, more surprised than mad, fortunately. "But-"

"C'mere." Irvine nuzzled his neck, ran his hand over the smooth skin of Squall's chest, down to his belly. "Mine. 'Til breakfast. Mine."

Squall sighed. "We missed breakfast. We're late for two meetings already."

"Butbutbutbut," whined Irvine.

"And we really shouldn't have done that while I was on the phone," said Squall, pulling himself out of Irvine's arms despite his protests. "We should both treat Quistis with more respect than that. Especially with this crisis on."

For a minute Irvine thought Squall really was mad at him, or worse still about to start torturing himself with guilt. Then Squall turned to chuck him a towel and Irvine spotted the grin on his face.

"Shower, Kinneas. Now."

Irvine shuffled off the bed. "Can we-"

"No," said Squall, firmly. "Later. Work now."

Irvine sighed, watching the subtle twitch of Squall's butt as he followed him into the shower.

And he hated Seifer more than ever.

* * * * * * *

Squall wasn't kidding about missing breakfast. No sooner were they clean and uniformed than he marched them to his office in the administration wing, where Selphie was waiting with Fujin and Raijin. Irvine hadn't seen Seifer's old sidekicks since shortly after Ultimecia and he didn't regret it much. He didn't understand their devoted loyalty to such an asshole, for one thing.

"CRISIS."

Didn't seem like Fujin's communication skills had improved any, either.

Squall strode over to his desk, and started to sift through a pile of reports. "Where's Seifer?"

"UNKNOWN."

"We're in the dark too, ya know?" Raijin looked genuinely rattled. Fujin too.

Squall glared at them.

"Look, there's doughnuts and coffee," said Selphie, with a meaningful glance at Irvine. "Let's tuck in before Zell gets here and snaffles all the best ones."

Irvine's growling stomach approved of that idea. "Come on, Commander," he said. "You made me miss breakfast, after all."

"Alright," Squall snapped, irritably. Selphie bounced happily down onto one of the low, semi-circular sofas around the table, and Raijin and Fujin followed her lead. Irvine brushed a hand over Squall's shoulder as he joined them, coaxing him as best he could to keep his patience.

"Raijin was telling me about Seifer on the way here," said Selphie. "He's been having some problems adjusting."

"DESOLATE," said Fujin. "UNCONSOLABLE."

"Because of what he did?" said Irvine. She was sitting stiffly, on the edge of the couch, hands twisted together in her lap.

"NEGATIVE."

"Because he lost the sorceress," said Raijin. "He hated what she did to him, but he needed her, ya know?"

"BOND."

"He missed the power?" said Selphie.

"No," said Squall, quietly, coming to sit next to Irvine. "He missed being her Knight."

"DESOLATE."

"That's about the size of it, man."

Irvine caught a flash of pain as it crossed Squall's face, an echo of the misery that he hadn't really seen since the winter festival. Yet in an instant Squall had buried it again, fixing a blank, professional expression on his face, taking a gulp of coffee before turning to Raijin and asking him when Seifer had started to feel that way.

"He never recovered, man. Not really. Went about his business, but always kinda sad. Took us a while to work out what was wrong."

"SECRETIVE. HE WAS... ASHAMED."

"Did he tell Edea, or Cid?" asked Selphie.

"NEGATIVE. ASHAMED."

"It was like he was being punished, ya know? Like he wanted it. Thought he deserved it."

"CRUEL."

"So what happened?" asked Selphie. "What does he want with Odine?"

"UNKNOWN."

"If he's taking his punishment like a man," said Irvine, "why's he shown up here and started to kidnap people?"

"Tanya." Raijin spat the name out in disgust. "She put ideas in his head, man. Bad ideas."

"PLANS."

"What sort of plans?" Squall frowned. "I don't understand. What would she get out of it?"

Fujin looked straight at Irvine. "REVENGE."

"She's got it in for you," said Raijin. "Whatever you did to her, pissed her off royal, ya know?"

Squall snorted; Selphie raised an eyebrow.

"I was getting that impression," said Irvine, his heart sinking. "I wish I could remember what I did..."

"So this Tanya comes to Seifer and asks him to help her get revenge against Irvine?" Selphie said, helping herself to another doughnut.

"Not exactly like that," said Raijin. "They met at FH. She worked in the store there for a while. Didn't know who he was. It was fine, we hung out. I kinda liked her. Then he told her about... what happened. After that, she was kinda-"

"OBSESSED."

"Yeah, that's about it. Then they disappeared; turns out they came here. That's all we know, man. I swear."

"FIND HIM. URGENT."

"We're trying," said Selphie, with far more compassion than Irvine could muster. "It looks from the security tapes we have as if he and Odine plain disappeared; there's a segment missing. Quistis has a theory that they left through a secret door underneath his laboratory, an escape tunnel left over from the Sorceress Wars. We're just trying to find it."

"Are we?" This was news to Irvine.

"Yes." Squall shot him a look, and there was more than a little mischief in his eyes. "Didn't you hear me talking to Quistis about it on the phone this morning?"

Irvine grinned right back at him. "Must've been busy."

He held Squall's gaze for a fraction longer than he should have, enjoying the secret.

"So we need to find this Tanya," said Selphie, with a curious look at Irvine. She didn't miss a thing, his Seffie. "Maybe she'll lead us to Seifer. Right, Squall?"

"Yes. If we can find her. She said she was meeting with Seifer last night, but there's no telling where she is now."

"MUST FIND," said Fujin, an unusual tone of desperation in her voice. "PLEASE."

"I know you and he had... well... you don't owe him anything," said Raijin. "But he tried. He's not bad, ya know?"

"He's dangerous," said Irvine. "He's abducted two people already. That's not what I'd call 'good', exactly."

"It might not be his fault," said Squall, unexpectedly.

Irvine couldn't imagine a scenario where that might be the case, and opened his mouth to say so. But Selphie beat him to it.

"Of course it's his fault!" she said. "You don't kidnap people by accident. You said yourself how dangerous it is to underestimate him. And if he feels bad after what happened... well, he deserves it! No-one made him become evil's bitch."

Irvine noticed the clench of Fujin's fists, the steadying hand Raijin laid on her shoulder.

"Edea did," said Squall, quietly. "When she was Ultimecia. That's how it works. It's a powerful thing. You don't understand."

It was the first time Irvine had heard Squall talk about Seifer with anything approaching pity. He didn't like the sound of it.

"It's still no excuse," Selphie insisted. "He could have gone for help, he could've-"

Squall cut her off. "It doesn't matter now. Our priority is to make sure Cass and Odine are safe. Then we'll work out what to do about Seifer. And Tanya."

Selphie's anger subsided a little; Fujin's fingers uncurled.

"Selphie, would you show Raijin and Fujin to their rooms? Irvine, you're with me," said Squall.

"Sure," said Irvine. "Where are we going?"

"Underground," said Squall.

* * * * * * *

One look at Quistis' face when they got to Odine's lab told Squall that she was making good progress.

That and the big hole in the floor she was standing next to.

"We couldn't detect anything," she explained, pushing her hair off her damp forehead with the back of one somewhat grubby hand. "So I got the engineers to help us take up the floor. They're using probes to make sure it's safe, then we can go down."

"At last," said Squall. "Get Selphie and Zell down here. Kiros..." he was about to issue an order, when he noticed the wry smile on Kiros' face. He'd forgotten for a moment that he wasn't really in command here. "Could you call Laguna? I'd like permission to get down there as soon as possible."

"Of course," said Kiros, with a gracious nod.

"Do we have any idea where it goes?" Squall asked Quistis, as Kiros turned away to make the call.

"It's hard to be sure. We found some old maps, and it seems likely that the tunnels could be accessed from most of the key locations in the city at one time. They might go further, even. Perhaps to Lunatic Pandora."

"That's a big area," said Irvine. Suddenly, Squall noticed a mark on Irvine's neck, a small, purple bruise, and knew that he'd put it there. And then, while one part of his brain dealt with the job in hand, Squall found the other part remembering how it had felt earlier, when Irvine...

Suddenly it was hard to look Quistis in the eye.

"They were built during the sorceress wars," Quistis was explaining to Irvine. "Kiros thinks there's some kind of refuge down there, a place where important people could hide until the threat was over. A bunker. Only, when it came to it, Laguna wasn't about to let anyone run away, so they never got used. They were so well hidden that people eventually forgot where the entrances were. Of course, there were no records."

There was a clatter of footsteps from down the hall as Selphie and Zell arrived.

"You found it?" Selphie skidded to a halt by Quistis, and peered into the hole. "What's down there?"

"We'll find out, soon," said Squall. "Check your junctions."

Shiva stirred in the back of his own mind. It felt like a long time since they'd done this for real, outside of training and monster culling. He called the others: Siren, Doomtrain, Diablos. Felt the rush of power, magic vibrating through his veins.

The taste of it reminded him, suddenly and painfully, of Rinoa. Without thinking he reached for her, trying to sense her, to grasp the link between them. But of course, she wasn't there.

Irvine looked quizzically at him; noticing something wrong even though Squall was sure it didn't show on his face. He took Squall's hand and Squall let him, however damn unprofessional it was. For a moment, he didn't care, didn't even look to see who noticed. The long fingers curling around his were strong and comforting, and diminished the sense of loss.

The technician who had been monitoring the probe from a nearby computer terminal cleared his throat to gain Squall's attention. "You're all clear, Commander Leonhart. The probe reports nothing out of the ordinary."

"Thank you," said Squall, pulling his hand reluctantly from Irvine's.

Laguna rushed into the room, almost knocking Zell into the tunnel in the process. "What did I miss?"

"Hey!" said Zell. "Watch where-"

"We've uncovered the tunnel we believe Seifer used to abduct Odine," said Squall. "I request your permission to-"

"Hell yeah," said Laguna, staring curiously down the hole. "Mind if I tag along?"

Squall looked doubtful; Laguna was useful to have around in a fight, but he could be a liability where stealth was concerned and if Seifer was down there, Squall had harboured hopes of sneaking up on him. But Irvine squeezed his shoulder, and he noticed something else behind the eagerness in his father's eyes. He wanted Seifer, too. He felt responsible.

"It's your tunnel," said Squall.

Laguna grinned. "So it is. But it's your mission."

"Let's just get on with it," said Squall.

* * * * * * *

The tunnel was narrow, but tall enough for even Irvine to stand up straight. The walls were tiled and although some cracks had appeared over the time the passages had been deserted, probably a result of the Lunar Cry, in general the Estharian engineering had stood up well. The soft floor covering made it easy for even Zell and Laguna to walk quietly, and there were emergency lights in the walls, still working after all these years. Whoever had built the tunnels had meant them to last.

They'd also built a lot of them.

At the first crossroads, Squall followed his instincts and kept going straight. At the second, he stopped, already in sight of the third. "We need to keep an eye on the map, and cross reference with the surface."

"Already on it," said Selphie, waving a scanner cheerfully at him. It beeped.

"There's no trail," said Laguna. "How do we know which way he went?"

"We don't. I'm working on a hunch. When we saw Tanya yesterday, she was on her way to meet with Seifer. She wasn't wearing much and she didn't have a coat, but it was freezing outside. I figure they met near the Torama. Seifer wouldn't risk being seen around the city, so I'm thinking she came down here from an entrance near the club."

"Wow," said Laguna. "You worked all that out by yourself?"

"He's not just a pretty face," said Irvine, with a smirk.

"If I'm right it should be a couple of miles in that direction." Squall pointed towards the left turn.

"It's could be closer than that," said Selphie, frowning as she tapped out a few rapid calculations on the scanner. "We're taking a much more direct route than we could on the surface, because the transporter tubes aren't in the way and-"

"Good," said Squall. "Let's go, then."

Selphie was right. Within half an hour, they reached a thick metal door, and Squall knew he'd found what he was looking for.

Shiva was buzzing in his mind, more loudly than ever. He could feel the magic surging through the door, raw and unguarded. It tasted like Cass's kiss. Almost like...

What had Seifer done?

"Junction," he whispered. "And don't assume we know what we're dealing with. Quistis, Selphie, Zell, watch our backs. Irvine, with me. Laguna, keypad."

Laguna stepped up to the entry pad and swiftly keyed in his override code.

The doors slid open to reveal a laboratory, pretty much a copy of Odine's main lab overground, which made sense: if Odine had planned on taking refuge down here, there's no way he would have done so without his equipment. Odine himself was typing away at a computer, apparently oblivious to his imminent rescue. There were two exits in the opposite wall, one at each corner.

Seifer stood in the middle of the room, gratifyingly startled by their entrance; he raised his hand and Squall braced himself for a magical attack, but nothing hit him. Instead a shimmering wall sprang up between them, settling quickly to transparent, fizzing electric blue and silver around the edges.

"Stay where you are, Leonhart," growled Seifer. "If you touch that you'll fry."

He had changed, in the half a year since Squall had last laid eyes on him. The usual arrogance was there, sure enough, the swagger and menace that was as familiar to him as Quistis' grace, or Selphie's unquenchable enthusiasm.

But Seifer looked wretched. His normally immaculate hair was scruffy and uncombed; he looked pudgy, some of his once enviable muscle turned to fat. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his mouth was drawn in a grim, humourless half-smile. He didn't appear to be armed, but he must be junctioned... where the fuck did he get a GF from?

"Where's Cass?" said Squall.

"She's mine," said Seifer, defensively. "I won't let you have her."

"Let down the field, Almasy. Return Odine and the girl to us." Laguna said; but Seifer didn't take his eyes off Squall. "We can sort this out. We can help her to find her power. It's not-"

"Too late!" yelled Odine, spinning around suddenly on his stool. "It is done! I, Odine, achieved the impossible! I activated a daughter of Hyne! I, Odine-"

"Oh, shut up," said Seifer; and to Squall's surprise, the odd little man obeyed. He turned back to his computer, a little huffily, but in silence.

"I don't think he needs rescuing," said Squall, eyeing Odine in disgust. "You didn't kidnap him, did you?"

Seifer shrugged. "Not exactly."

"This can't work," said Squall. "I know how you feel, but you can't be her Knight. It's not right, she needs help to..."

"What the fuck do you know about it?" Seifer's eyes blazed anger. "You've still got Her, haven't you? You have Her with you every day, feeding you, wanting you, needing you. I've got nothing. I'm one big gaping hole where she used to be, my soul leaking out, bit by bit. You'll never fucking know, Leonhart."

Squall was dumbstruck for a moment; Seifer had found his weakness again, without even trying. He always found his weakness.

"That just shows what you know, Almasy," growled Irvine.

The door just behind Seifer and to his left slid open. Squall could feel Cass' presence before he saw her; her magic rolled out in a wave before her, crashing against Seifer's barrier in a shower of sparks. Her eyes were blank and unfocused; power crackled about her, raw and wild.

"What have you done?" said Quistis, staring at Cass, horrified. "She's an ordinary woman, she doesn't know anything about... she-"

"She has more power than any of you can imagine," said Seifer. He stood perfectly still, voice deceptively calm and steady. "It's hers. It's her birthright. If you'd found her first, you would have stolen it from her. Tamed her, like some kind of domestic animal-"

"Bollocks," said Squall. "It's not safe to leave her to cope with it alone and besides, that's not her natural power, is it?"

"It's her potential," said Seifer. "It's her-"

"No!" Cass raised her hand and released her magic in a cloud of stars, spread wide to fall on Seifer, Odine and herself. There was a blinding flash and a rush of white noise that deafened him for a moment.

By the time Squall's eyes blinked open, they'd gone.

* * * * * * *

"I thought you'd had it with this place."

Irvine and Squall stood outside the Torama, pink and purple neon washing over them. It was cold, close to freezing and Squall shivered, fists thrust into his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched up to his ears.

"So did I," he said, grimly.

"Are you going to let me in on the plan, then, or do you want me to follow you as an obedient yet ignorant sidekick? Because, you know, I could do either." Irvine gave Squall a gentle smile, warmth spreading in his belly when it was returned.

"The girl behind the bar last night. I think she'd seen Tanya before. She said something about her that made it sound like she didn't expect Cass to be friends with her."

"That's pretty slim pickings, babe. You only have to look at Tanya to work out she's bad news."

"I know." Squall sniffed. "But it's all we've got. She might know what Seifer's planning."

"You cold?"

Squall shrugged noncommittally, even though his lips were turning blue. Irvine resolved to go out as soon as the shops opened and buy him a duster. That damn jacket of his was too short for winter.

"C'mere." He opened his coat and tugged Squall into his arms, wrapping the worn leather around Squall's back. Squall scowled at him, but he didn't resist, and once Irvine had kissed him even the frown disappeared. Squall settled, albeit stiffly, into the warmth of Irvine's body and rested his head on his shoulder.

"How come you don't remember?" Squall murmured.

"Remember what?"

"Tanya. What she thinks you did to her."

"I don't know. It was a difficult time."

"Why?" Squall's arms slid around Irvine's waist, cold hands coming to rest on his back.

"It was after Rainbow left. You remember, I told you about Rainbow. I was in a pretty bad way after she moved on. For the next year or so I was... well, I didn't care a whole lot about very much." He nuzzled Squall's neck. "I did some stupid things. I was out of control."

He waited for Squall's reaction, bracing himself for commanderly disapproval, but Squall seemed more curious than anything.

"So what happened? How did you stop being like that?"

"Martine sorted me out in the end. Gave me the lecture, confined me to Garden, made me put everything into training. I owe him a lot, really. And you. I owe you, too."

"Me?" Squall raised his head, surprised.

"Yeah, you. Martine made sure I could fire a rifle. You showed me where to point it."

Squall snorted laughter. "That's... quite an image."

Irvine took a moment to work out what he meant, before he laughed too. "When did your mind get all dirty? Here's me making a perfectly serious point, and... anyway, Martine. Ew. No." He hugged Squall a little tighter, revelling in the last ripples of laughter that bubbled from Squall's throat. Then he dipped his head and kissed Squall's nose, his cheek, his mouth. Lingered there, his eyes fluttering shut, Squall's body warm now, pressing into his.

Irvine was happily losing himself in the rhythm of Squall's warm breath, when there was a loud clang from the alleyway behind them and a manhole cover scraped noisily against the tarmac. In an instant Squall was out of his arms and racing towards the source of the disturbance; if there had been a flash of blue heralding the sweeping arc of Lionheart he wouldn't have been surprised.

But instead, there was simply a startled "fuck!"

Irvine caught up with him in time to see a shadowy creature crawling from the hole in the ground; Irvine suspected a slimy, slippery monster of some kind, until the flickering neon above the Torama's entrance revealed a glimpse of grubby blonde hair and pink, scraped skin; an undeniably female human form.

She was deathly pale, dark shadows under haunted eyes. Squall dropped to one knee and extended an arm to help her; Irvine grasped an elbow to steady her as she staggered clear of the opening.

She looked up at Irvine, and blinked.

"Oh bugger," she said. "It's you."

Tanya fell unconscious into Squall's arms.

* * * * * * *

Esthar looked much prettier at night, Irvine decided, as he looked out from the window of yet another wing of the Presidential Palace. Once the sun had gone down the garish pink and blue faded, blending to a muted purplish glow that bled into the black sky, decorated with bright, twinkling stars.

He wanted to go and drag Squall out of his meeting, to make him come and look. He felt an overwhelming urge to share everything with his lover; storing up details so he could tell him later, even though he knew deep down that he'd forget when they were together again, and anyway, it would seem foolish when he got around to it.

Irvine may have slept with men before Squall, but he'd never been in love with one, and he wasn't sure exactly how to handle it. He remembered the first time he'd told Rainbow that he loved her; the feelings so new and dramatic that making a fool of himself had seemed obligatory. Expected, even. For a month after that he'd given her flowers every day, or when money was tight, bad poetry - he still cringed to think how bad - or left notes on the pillow for her to find in the morning when he'd gone.

He tried to picture the expression on Squall's face if he were to suddenly receive a dozen red roses and a note signed 'your cowboy'; the image made him laugh out loud.

A door opened behind him and Quistis emerged from the medical centre. She quirked a brow at him with a little smile; she'd obviously heard him laughing to himself in the corridor.

"How is she?" he asked, feeling a little foolish.

"Okay. A few cuts and bruises and the remnants of what looks like a pretty nasty magical attack. But she'll be fine."

"Does she have any idea where Seifer is?"

"She's not very chatty, and I haven't pushed her. Apparently Seifer ended their relationship, then she got into some kind of argument with Cass. That's all I know. Oh, and I found this when we were sorting out her clothes." She produced a little leather wallet from her pocket and offered it to him, looking a little pensive. "I thought you should take a look, before we give it back."

Irvine took the wallet from her, and peeked curiously inside.

It was a little photo book, and the first thing he saw was a photo of himself. His much younger self: skinny, gawky, grinning cheekily at the camera. There was a little clip of auburn hair, too, coiled and trapped behind the plastic window.

He flipped the page to the next photo: a young girl, with pale freckles; short, chestnut hair in a ragged bob.

Finally, Irvine began to understand.

* * * * * * *

"Hello, Koshi."

Her eyes fluttered open. She looked pale, apart from the livid bruises to her jaw and arm, too far gone to be healed by Squall's cura spell. She seemed smaller, lying on her back in the big, clean bed. Vulnerable.

"Praise be to Hyne," she muttered, voice dripping sarcasm. "You remembered."

"You could've just told me." Irvine sat carefully on the edge of her bed. "Why play all these stupid games?"

"Why should I bother? If I meant so little to you that you could forget, why should I be the one to remind you?"

"I didn't forget," said Irvine. "I didn't recognise you. There's a difference."

"Like I give a shit," she said, with a vehemence that made Irvine flinch.

She wouldn't look at him; staring instead at the plain white ceiling. Irvine fought his resentment at her childishness and blossoming guilt, as he looked around the sterile room. It was stainless steel and white tile: three beds, but Koshi was the only occupant.

"I know you weren't happy when we broke up," he said, softly. "But this has gone too far, don't you think?"

She laughed, harsh, incredulous. "Not happy? That's a fucking understatement. You made promises, Kinneas. You said you loved me. You said we were forever."

Irvine frowned. He was sure he had said nothing of the kind. "I liked you, but-"

"Do you remember when we met?"

"That party at your school. Your friend was dating my friend, they set us up." He very nearly hadn't gone. He hated blind dates.

"It was the best night of my life. I'd wanted you for the longest time."

"Oh? I didn't know that."

"We used to hang around near Garden to watch the cadets, me and my friends. I remember seeing you, on your way to some kind of battle drill, so handsome in your uniform... You always seemed to be in trouble for something or another. I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. When we met that night and you said you liked me too... I was over the moon."

Irvine shifted uncomfortably, not liking where this seemed to be going.

"I can't believe how naive I was. Of course, you betrayed me. You deserted me, just when I needed you the most."

"It's a long time ago. I was fucked up, we were both so young, we only went out for a few weeks. I really don't-"

"You're not listening. You _destroyed_ me."

Irvine stared at her, amazed.

"You were the only person I ever trusted," she continued. "I thought... you were supposed to save me, and instead you made my life a living Hell."

There were tears in her eyes, real, honest, painful tears. "I'm sorry," said Irvine, meaning it. "I had no idea you felt that way about me. We were just teenagers."

"You used me, like you used every girl who was stupid enough to spread her legs for you."

Irvine opened his mouth to protest, but couldn't find the words. Perhaps because she'd struck a chord somewhere. He found himself remembering something Selphie had said, in that last, awful row before he left. _The trouble with you is that you don't really know what you want. You're just trying everything in the hope you'll stumble across it..._

"I should've known better. My father ran out on me. Every man I ever met wanted something from me, and would give me nothing back. I don't know why I expected you to be any different. But I did. You said you wouldn't leave me."

Guilt surged through him; he got up abrubtly, crossed to the window. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way. I wasn't really thinking straight, and it wasn't working out..."

"You were already looking for the next fuck, you mean."

"No, I..." The thing was, she was right, in a way.

"You wouldn't even go away. You never went away. You paraded all your new conquests in front of me. You ran off and got to be a hero. Everywhere I went people were fucking talking about you. Even in FH, the dustbin of the world, they talk about you." She gave a bitter little laugh, and Irvine turned back towards her, guilt twisting into somthing like compassion. "Seifer understood that, at least. It didn't do him a lot of good, either. I thought..." Fresh tears welled in her eyes and she fell silent.

"Koshi..."

"Go away." Her voice small and trembling. "Please, just go away."

"But-"

She turned away from him, face buried in the pillow, body quivering with her sobs. Irvine reached to touch one shaking shoulder, but she flinched away, as violently as if he'd slapped her.

He lay her wallet on the bedside table, and quietly crept away.

* * * * * * *

Squall stepped carefully through the maze of paper on the pink-carpeted floor to lay the final piece of the map into place. Then he slumped cross-legged to the floor beside it, and glared at it.

It was a great map, and it was fascinating to see how the Estharians had managed to link all the key locations with an economical network of beautifully engineered tunnels. But it was pointless. As soon as Quistis had told him about the exit to the Estharian Plains Squall knew that was where Seifer would have gone. If Seifer had had any say in where Cass had taken them. If she'd been able to control where they ended up, even.

He could be anywhere by now.

Squall sighed deeply, relieved to hear soft footfalls behind him as Irvine entered the room.

"Hey, babe. What's all this?"

Squall turned and smiled at Irvine, feeling a little lurch of pleasure inside at the sound of his lover's voice. "Useless," he said.

"Oh, I don't know." Irvine squatted down behind him and kissed his neck. "It covers up the carpet."

"That has to be a good thing," Squall agreed. Irvine started to knead his shoulders and Squall leaned back into the caress.

"Are you done for the day?"

"I think. There's nothing else we can do until we have at least a theory of where Seifer's gone."

"Hm."

Squall couldn't fail to notice that Irvine was being a lot tougher on his muscles than usual. It felt good, though.

Irvine sighed.

"You okay, man?" Squall tipped his head back to look up at Irvine, to try and find some clue as to this unusual mood. He caught a trace of worry in Irvine's eyes, soon masked by a smile, but not altogether gone.

"Yeah. It's been a long day. Doesn't matter now."

He tugged Squall back against his chest, his arms sliding firm and reassuring around Squall's middle as he hugged him.

"What a mess," he murmured.

"We'll fix it," said Squall, with more confidence than he felt. "In the morning," he added, as Irvine's tongue rasped wetly over his neck.

"Yeah. In the morning." Irvine hugged him again and nuzzled his hair, just behind his ear.

"Feels good." Squall felt himself begin to relax, and rubbed his cheek against Irvine's stubble. "Bed?"

"I need a shower first. Why don't you go on ahead? I won't be long. Unless you want to join me?" Irvine nipped at Squall's earlobe.

Squall was about to turn and push Irvine to the floor for a little pre-shower romping, when his phone rang. He plucked it from his pocket and answered it out of habit; Irvine sighed again, got up and padded towards the bathroom with scarcely a backward glance.

"... it's on for three days, so..."

"Sorry, Dad. What?" Squall tried to concentrate on Laguna's voice, pushing aside lingering concern at Irvine's odd mood.

"The music festival. We could go tomorrow, if you're busy tonight."

"Music festival? Why in the name of Hyne are you thinking of going to a music festival when Seifer and an out-of-control sorceress are out there fuck knows where?"

"Because the City's been closed for two days now and people are getting jumpy. You know, there's more to all this than running about fighting enemies. Rumours and fear can be just as much of a threat as magic. The best way to take care of those things is to behave as if everything's normal, in public, at least. It's like looking after kids. If you look as if you're not bothered by anything, they'll feel safe."

While some part of Squall was resenting Laguna's inference that he had anything whatsoever to learn about his job, at the same time he'd dealt with enough panicking cadets in his time to know he was talking sense. But still. A music festival?

"I thought you could bring Irvine," said Laguna.

"Irvine?" asked Squall, confused.

"Well, there's plenty of tickets, you can all come, but I thought maybe you could ... officially bring Irvine. As your consort. Partner. Kind of thing." Laguna cleared his throat.

"Oh," said Squall. He felt a blush rise up his cheeks, and was immensely grateful that the conversation was taking place on the telephone.

"Only if... well... you know."

There was an uneasy pause.

"I really like Irvine," said Laguna.

Despite his cringing embarrassment and lack of anything at all to say in response to Laguna's suggestion, Squall realised he was pleased. Not so much at the bizarre request, but that Laguna approved of Irvine.

Not that it mattered. But still.

"Me too," he said.

Laguna's laugh took Squall by surprise; he hadn't meant to be funny, it was the only thing he could think of to say.

"So you'll ask him?"

"Yeah," said Squall. "Okay. Um."

"I'll leave you to it then. I mean. Er... well."

"Goodnight, Dad," said Squall, firmly.

"Goodnight, son. See you at the briefing tomorrow."

Squall let the word 'son' echo around his head for a moment, surprised at how right it felt.

Then he shut his phone off and went through to the bedroom. He stripped slowly, tossing his clothes onto a nearby chair: jeans, t-shirt, belts. It was the first night since he and Irvine had got together that he'd undressed himself, he realised.

"Who was that on the phone?" Irvine emerged from the shower, naked and beautiful, his skin slightly pink from over-hot water, russet hair dripping around his shoulders. He took a towel from the end of the bed and wrapped it around his waist.

"Dad. There's a music festival he says we should go to. Public confidence building or something."

"Not tonight?" Irvine looked almost as panicked as Squall had felt at that idea.

"No, tomorrow."

"Oh. Good. Don't feel much like going anywhere tonight, do you?"

"No. But I thought maybe... tomorrow... we could go together?"

"Sure," said Irvine, voice muffled by his towel as he dried his hair.

Squall frowned. That wasn't quite the effusive response he'd hoped for. It was the first actual date he'd asked Irvine on, after all. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," said Irvine, tugging on the tangles in his hair with his comb.

Squall was certain he wasn't fine, but he figured if Irvine didn't want to discuss whatever was on his mind, well, that was his business, really.

But he looked so sad.

Squall sat on the edge of the bed and wondered what, if anything, he should say. Irvine finished combing his hair, stuffed dirty clothes into the hamper and finally, came to sit next to him.

Squall opened his mouth, but there were no words, as usual. So he pulled Irvine close and kissed him instead.

Irvine responded instantly, his arms resting warm on Squall's shoulders, his skilled lips taking the kiss smoothly from an affectionate peck to a whole different level. By the time he pulled back, Squall was breathing hard and his tummy was fluttering  
with anticipation.

"Oh gods," murmured Irvine, cradling Squall's head in one hand and leaning in for another kiss. "I want to make love to you all night."

Squall felt as though he was melting inside. Irvine had never called it that before. Neither of them had. It had always been fucking, or screwing. It was only words, but it felt very different.

"Can I?" murmured Irvine, licking along the clean line of Squall's jaw.

Squall realised he still held his phone in one hand. His thumb ran smoothly over the keys until he found the off switch.

He pressed it, eliciting a single, satisfying beep and dropped the phone to the floor.

"You promised to show me," he panted, pressing kisses into Irvine's hair. "How to make it last forever."

Irvine chuckled, deep in his throat. "I'm not sure about forever." His lips skimmed breifly over Squall's before settling on his throat. "But yeah. I could show you a few things." His fingers stroked the back of Squall's neck, teasing the fine, ticklish hairs that grew there.

Squall bristled slightly at the implication of his own innocence, but decided to let it pass for now. "Please," he breathed into Irvine's ear.

"I'll just have to get some things. Don't go anywhere. Take these off." He twanged the elastic of Squall's boxers.

Squall shucked his underwear off and waited patiently on the bed as Irvine gathered a few items together. Lube, coconut oil, towels and a large chocobo feather.

Irvine knelt on the bed, revealing a tantalising glimpse of thigh through the gap in his towel as he settled back on his heels.

"Ground rules," he said. "This won't be easy. You have to do as I say, and relax. Especially the relaxing part."

"I can do that," said Squall, hoping he could.

"No rushing. And no coming, until I say you can."

That could prove difficult. His body was already telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he should fuck Irvine into the mattress as soon as possible.

Irvine slipped off the towel; his cock stretched stiffly up towards his navel, a tiny bead of moisture at the tip. Unconsciously, Squall licked his lips and reached out a hand, but Irvine caught his wrist.

"No touching," he said playfully. "Not yet."

Squall heard a little whine escape from his throat.

"Back rub first," said Irvine. "Lie down on your front."

Squall did as he was told and stretched out on the bed, forehead resting on his arms.

"The idea is to get as relaxed as you can," said Irvine. "And feel what's happening. Be in the moment."

Squall knew that wasn't one of his strong points. Fighting was all about anticipating, and command was all about planning. He didn't often have the luxury to look around and see what the present was all about. It made him nervous, as if he was letting his guard down. As if to stop thinking about the future was to leave himself open to nasty surprises.

Gradually, though, Irvine's fingers started to work their magic and he found himself drifting.

"Squall..."

"Mmm?"

"You know I'm not going to leave you, right?"

His hands swept rhythmically over Squall's shoulder blades, pushing the tiredness out of his tense muscles.

Squall didn't know what to say.

"I meant what I said last night," Irvine continued. "I love you. I'm not planning on running out on you or anything."

"Good," said Squall.

There was a pause, and then he added: "I love you, too."

Irvine dropped a kiss onto Squall's neck, and returned his attention to the massage. Humming softly now as he worked over back and shoulders, arms and legs, paying brief attention to his buttocks before he turned him over and started on his front. Chest and tummy, skimming over hard nipples, skirting around his aching cock and balls. Something that could only be the feather floated over his chest, not quite tickling.

Finally, Irvine knelt at Squall's side and stroked his face, smoothing over cheekbones, circling temples, easing out the tension in jaw and skull. Squall felt as if he were floating; Irvine's touch was feather-light now, painting tiny circles and spirals over his skin, leaving warm tingles behind it.

"Good babe?" Squall felt warm towels being spread over his body, and found himself incapable of speech. So he smiled instead.

"Take as long as you like," said Irvine. "Then it's my turn."

Squall stroked Irvine's arm; Irvine caught his hand and kissed the palm.

"There's this game you can play," he told Squall, licking between his fingers. "Where you take it in turns to be each other's slave. Not just in bed, but for a whole day, or more. Concentrate on giving pleasure, without worrying about receiving it. I'd like to do that with you one day. To take care of you, make you feel good."

"Mmm," said Squall. "We could do that. When all this is over."

Irvine dipped his head and kissed him. "I'd like that."

Squall could happily have stayed there forever; body lax and content, Irvine's soft kisses brushing over his face. Except that the kisses were waking up at least part of his body rather rapidly, and he was anxious to return the compliment. So he somehow summoned the will to pull himself upright, dimly aware that he had a foolish smile on his face, and gently pushed Irvine back against the matress, and rolled him over onto his front.

He poured oil into his palm, his eyes running over the curves and angles of Irvine's body. Irvine stretched, yawned, and settled himself for Squall's attentions; golden skin glowing in the soft lighting, russet hair falling in lazy waves down his back, almost reaching his perfectly rounded ass, until Squall swept it out of the way with his spare hand, spreading it across the pillow. Irvine rested his chin on folded arms, and watched him out of the corner of his eye.

Squall had never massaged anyone before; he'd tried to rub Rinoa's shoulders a few times, only she didn't seem to like it much. But it wasn't as if touching Irvine was a chore, after all, so he took his turn and carefully coated Irvine's skin with the scented oil. He took a deep breath and started to rub.

Irvine all but purred.

Squall soon lost himself in his task, methodically teasing out the knots in Irvine's muscles, prodding and coaxing them to relaxation.

There were a lot of knots.

He worked carefully to ease them all.

By the time he got to Irvine's front, he was enjoying himself. He hovered on all fours over Irvine's body, and couldn't resist a lick at one nipple, but Irvine gently pushed his head away with a whisper of "later". Squall got back to work, kneading the muscles like Irvine had his own, until Irvine seemed to be asleep, his body soft and relaxed, even his cock resting quietly in its nest of auburn curls.

Squall watched it, longing to take it in his mouth and suck it to stiffness. But he guessed, if nipple licking was a no-no, that would definitely not be allowed.

"How did you get so good at this?"

Startled by Irvine's voice, Squall dragged his eyes guiltily up his body to find Irvine watching him. "Am I good?"

"Very."

"I just did what you did."

Irvine smiled lazily. "You really are a very fast learner."

He tugged Squall's head down and kissed him. Slowly, languorously and very thoroughly. Squall moaned softly and trailed his fingers down Irvine's chest, across his belly, towards his navel and-

"Not yet." A firm hand clamped around his wrist.

Squall sat back on his heels, surprised and a little rejected. His eyes darted unbidden to Irvine's sex, half-hard now from the kissing. It looked so... inviting...

"Not yet," repeated Irvine, clambering into a sitting position. "First, we breathe."

Squall was about to tell him he was breathing perfectly well now, thank you, and when were they going to get around to having sex, but one look at Irvine's face stopped him in his tracks. Irvine's expression was soft, but undeniably serious.

He knelt in front of Squall, took his right hand and placed it on his own chest.

"Your hand to my heart," he said, as he laid his palm on Squall's chest in return. "My hand to your heart."

Squall swallowed an embarrassed laugh, and concentrated hard. He could feel the steady beat of Irvine's heart beneath his fingers.

"Look in my eyes."

Squall locked his gaze to Irvine's. Warm, familiar eyes, indigo with violet flecks, long, russet lashes.

"Whole breaths," said Irvine.

Squall let his breathing deepen, falling easily into a pattern familiar from years of training. He heard Irvine's breathing change too, first matching, then alternating with his.

His hand against Irvine's chest felt warm. His fingers tingled.

"When I breathe out," Irvine said, "I send my heart energy to you. When I breathe in, I take the energy you've given me."

Squall swallowed his cynicism, and not just for Irvine's sake. Deliberately took down the walls to lose himself in Irvine's gaze, feeling his heartbeat, breathing in time...

It was like a junction. Like a tingle of magic that spread through his body, warming and soothing and energising him. Like drinking elixir, or being bathed in a cura spell.

As one, they leaned closer; their foreheads touched. Then Irvine kissed him, softly, on the mouth, on his cheeks and nose and eyelids, as if he were setting out to systematically kiss every inch of his face. Squall kissed back, Irvine's skin soft under his lips, even his chin and jaw, freshly shaved. Irvine's fingers stroked Squall's skin in the wake of his own kisses, caressing his face and neck and throat; Squall sucked them into his mouth, his eyes on Irvine all the while, as they bathed each other in kiss and touch.

It was heaven, timeless. Squall had forgotten the urgency of his need, living only for the next touch, the next kiss, the next breath. He'd never felt so close to another human being in his life, relaxed and happy; Irvine sneezed, and Squall laughed, and it didn't matter.

Irvine moved, re-arranged their limbs so they sat closer still, legs wrapped around each others' ass, cocks touching. He drizzled oil to slick them both, locked fingers with Squall and brought his hand down so they could touch each other, squeeze their matching erections together, rubbing, sweet, sweet friction.

It wasn't like jerking off, not really. He could feel his whole body thrumming with the rhythm of his cock, he'd never felt anything like it before. An orgy of fingers, cocks and tongues and mouths, and whenever the urge to thrust and come got too much, Irvine would stop, squeezing on the magic spot to take the need away, and they'd go back to kissing or breathing for a while, and start all over again.

Squall lost count of the number of times Irvine took him to the brink like that and brought him back again. He didn't care. Irvine was flushed, body glistening with oil and a sheen of sweat, his lips swollen with kissing. Squall moaned, the aching need inside of him becoming unbearable, irresistable.

"Look in my eyes, lover. Let go."

He squeezed, once, and Squall's body spasmed; thick white streams shot from his cock, and then from Irvine's, and it all mixed together in one glorious slick mess. It was everywhere, coating their cocks and bellies and fingers and chests, warm and sticky on sensitive skin. Squall breathed in the scent of it; warm come and coconut oil; he tasted it, on his fingers, on Irvine's fingers, on his lover's lips and tongue and face. He revelled in it, bathed in it, wallowed in it, until finally the strength went from him, and he slumped into Irvine's arms, panting.

"Oh babe," Irvine whispered.

"Yeah," said Squall, surprised he could find any words at all.

He found himself drifting off to sleep like that, still kneeling there, his head on Irvine's shoulder, Irvine's fingers combing tenderly through his hair. He was vaguely aware of Irvine wiping him down with a towel, licking his twitching, hyper-sensitive cock clean, laying him down on cool sheets.

And then he slept.

* * * * * * *

Irvine tossed the last of the towels into the hamper and curled up on the bed to watch Squall sleep. Tried to ignore the nagging worries that had crowded back into his mind as soon as his body had let his mind take over again.

Seifer. Cass. And Koshi.

All his own stupid fault.

How could he tell Squall that it was all his fault?

He stroked Squall's arm, raising little goosebumps.

"'vine?"

"Mmm?"

"Get into bed." Squall opened one eye. "And stop tickling."

Irvine obediently shuffled under the covers and let Squall tug him close.

"Better," Squall announced and closed his eyes again, already drifting back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Paxnirvana for beta-ing this chapter.


	6. Duty

Irvine woke early, when the room was still shrouded grey. Squall slept nestled into his side, one fist curled loosely by his forehead. He looked peaceful: his breath soft; face tranquil under the fall of dark hair.

Irvine smiled for a moment, until he remembered.

On the eighteenth morning that Irvine woke next to Squall, he was filled with a vague sense of guilt which stirred and grew until he couldn't lie still any more.

He should have treated Koshi better. He should have looked out for Cass. He should have known.

But he'd been too wrapped up in himself to see what was going on.

Then again, looking at Squall, asleep and beautiful and _his_, it didn't seem to matter. And that was the danger. Because it did matter. That much power and Seifer in the same place was bound to end badly.

And it was all his fault.

Irvine rolled carefully away from Squall, and slipped out of bed. He quietly sorted through the pile of clothes on the chair in the corner of the room to try and find something to wear, and had gathered together an armful of things before Squall woke.

"'vine?"

Damn. Irvine had really hoped to slip out without disturbing him. He needed to get this sorted out in his own head before he told Squall any of it.

"It's okay. Go back to sleep, babe."

"Not here," said Squall, glaring accusingly at the empty space beside him.

"I'll be back in a sec, don't worry." Irvine dropped his clothes on the end of the bed and knelt over to give Squall a hug, nuzzling into the sleepy-warm of his neck.

"Hn. Better had." Squall hugged him back, finding his lips for a soft, wet kiss. Irvine made to move away, but found himself tugged hard enough that he fell forwards into Squall's arms. Then there were fingers in his hair, and Squall's tongue wriggling into his mouth, and Irvine's heartbeat was suddenly racing, blood pounding in his ears.

He forced himself to passively accept whatever Squall did to him without moving things along himself. Hoping, however much he wanted him, that he'd drift back to sleep. Because he didn't feel he had the right to enjoy this, not now.

"Back before you know it," Irvine whispered, gently disentangling himself from the warmth of Squall's arms. Squall huffed disapprovingly, but he was too sleepy to argue.

By the time Irvine had left the room Squall was oblivious again.

* * * * * * *

Irvine yearned for Balamb Garden's Training centre. To slip into the stillness of gun and bullet and the rhythm of breath; pure concentration. He was almost tempted to venture outside the city and find a few things to kill, but of course Esthar was still closed off, and besides, going out there alone would be reckless, however much he wanted to blow off steam. So Irvine headed for the palace gardens instead. Hidden away in a quadrangle, bordered by Laguna's private apartments, it was an oasis of growing things in the high-tec, man-made expanse of the city. The smell of leaves and the sound of softly bubbling water promised some kind of peace, however temporary.

To his surprise, Quistis was there already. Sitting on a low bench crafted in green-marbled perspex, she was lost in a book, reading glasses perched on her nose, twirling wisps of blonde hair around her finger. Irvine hesitated, not wanting to disturb her. But she knew, somehow, turned her head and smiled at him.

"Hello," she said, and shuffled up the bench, making room for him. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Irvine sat down next to her, folding his arms across his chest. The garden was heated, but there was still enough of a chill in the morning air to make him shiver.

"It's a nice morning," he said, not quite answering her question.

"Nice enough to drag you away from Squall?" she asked, one brow arched.

"Couldn't sleep."

She looked thoughtfully at him for a moment, then carefully slotted her bookmark between the pages of her book and closed it. "Is everything all right between you two?

"Oh, yes," said Irvine. "Nothing to worry about." He managed a weak smile.

"You sure? I know he's not easy to deal with sometimes, but-"

"No, really. We're good." The grin got a little firmer as Irvine remembered the previous night. "Very good."

Quistis echoed his smile. "I'm glad. So..."

"It's nothing. Just not happy knowing Seifer's out there somewhere, waiting to cause trouble. Sometimes it feels like it never stopped, you know? As if Ultimecia was just the beginning."

"It is worrying. But nothing we can't deal with. And I suppose when we joined up for SeeD we asked for a lifetime of this, didn't we?"

Irvine shrugged. "I guess. Ignore me, Quisty. I'm just a little tired, is all."

"Of course," she said, softly. They sat in silence for a little while. Water bubbled over pebbles in the pool just in front of them, drawing Irvine's eyes, hypnotising him.

"Do you ever wonder," he said, mostly to himself, "what would have become of you if it hadn't been for SeeD?"

"Sometimes. I think I might have gone into teaching of some sort. But then... I would have had to stay with the family who adopted me, and they weren't too big on education."

Irvine continued to stare into the pool.

"What about you?" asked Quistis.

"I don't know," said Irvine. "It scares me, sometimes, to think... Everything I am, everything I've ever achieved, has been because of SeeD. Especially Martine. If he hadn't..."

He tailed off again. Irvine wasn't usually the sort of person to dwell on what-ifs, but since his conversation with Koshi yesterday he kept playing certain episodes of his life over and over. Trying to find out where he'd gone wrong, what he could have done differently.

"Would it have been so bad?" said Quistis, gently. "There wouldn't have been the killing, or the danger. You could have had a normal life."

"Except... You know, I think the normal bits are the hardest of all. Look at Squall. He can kill monsters and sorceresses, take the toughest decisions, lead whole Gardens of people. But try to get him to talk about his feelings..."

"That's normal for an eighteen year old boy," said Quistis. "They're not all like you, Irvine."

They shared a grin that could, in some other universe, have been flirtatious.

"I did some bad things," said Irvine.

"We all do bad things from time to time."

"Nah. Not everyone. I can't imagine you ever doing a bad thing, for instance."

"I once gave Squall and Seifer detention just so I could watch Squall brood for an hour."

Irvine laughed. "You're kidding me?"

"Nope, it's true," said Quistis. "Thing is, they were so used to getting in trouble it didn't even occur to them that I might have had an ulterior motive. Oh, and if you ever tell Squall that, you're dead, you understand?"

"Of course." Irvine winked at her.

She took a long look at him, and he watched her fingers close around his arm, and squeeze.

"It's okay," she said. "We all make mistakes, Irvy. Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

It was a nice thought, and one that Irvine tried to hold on to, briefly. But he wasn't sure he deserved it.

"I was an asshole to Selphie, wasn't I?"

Quistis took her hand away, and cleared her throat, very slightly. "It can't have been easy for you."

"It should have been. Meet girl, fall in love with girl, stay with girl. That's how it's supposed to be."

"But I don't think you were really in love with her, were you?" said Quistis gently.

"I-" Irvine had a sudden vision of Squall, his fingers resting on Irvine's heart, trembling against his skin, and his stomach flipped. He swallowed hard. "No," he said.

"It's easy to confuse your feelings, when you see someone you grew up with, especially someone as sweet and exciting as Selphie, when you don't know if you're going to live for another day, or week, or month, when you feel a bond and don't really understand it. Selphie's happy for you and Squall. She doesn't bear any grudges."

"Sometimes I wish she did," said Irvine with a wry smile. "I deserve it."

"It was her who went off with someone else." But there was an edge of uncertainty to Quistis' voice.

"After I pushed her into a corner. I'm not looking for excuses, Quisty. Not any more." Irvine sat up, and straightened his hat. "I need to take responsibility for my actions."

"Steady, Irvine," said Quistis, with the slightest of smiles. "I'm not sure the world's ready for that yet."

But he was serious. It was too late to treat Selphie better, or Koshi for that matter. But he could do something to put things right. He had to. He got to his feet, leaned down and gave Quistis a hug, sudden and tight enough to make her squeak. "Thanks, Quisty."

And leaving Quistis with a nagging worry in the back of her mind that she couldn't quite pin down, he walked away.

* * * * * * *

"'vine?" Squall raised his touseled, sleep-fugged head and blinked at him. Clutching his towel around his middle, Irvine leaned over and kissed him, his hair dripping water all over Squall's naked shoulders.

"Wet," Squall complained, but he tugged Irvine onto the bed nonetheless. "Warm," he noted, and nuzzled into Irvine's chest.

"Mmm." Irvine reached down to rearrange his cock as it started to swell, pressing against Squall's through the covers. It appeared that whenever the he and Squall were in close proximity, his dick was instantly awake and anxious to seek out its playmate. Irvine relished that thought for a moment, enjoying the feeling of sameness, the familiarity of Squall's body.

Squall was rocking his hips back and forth, tugging Irvine on top of him so their cocks rubbed against each other through the soft down quilt. Irvine smiled down at him, brushing the hair from his face and taking long, slow kisses. "You're frisky this morning, Leonhart."

"'m I?" Squall squinted at him through barely-open eyes, and kept rocking.

"I hope I didn't wake you." Irvine trailed his fingers across Squall's cheekbones, down the clean lines of his jaw. "I tried to be quiet."

"'s fine. I was dreaming."

"Yeah? What about?"

Squall frowned, dragging the dream back into his memory even as it tried to slip away. "We were trying to find Seifer. And then you remembered something. You were going out with Cass, or you had been, not sure which, and you remembered this place the two of you had planned to go, and we were trying to find it, see if that's where she'd taken Seif." Squall yawned, and Irvine tried not to bristle at the way he'd used the shortened version of Seifer's name, like they had when they were kids. And, presumably, as Squall had when they were lovers.

"Where was it? Maybe it's a clue."

"Hmph," Squall grunted dismissively. "That was the thing. You couldn't remember."

"Well, that's where you can tell it's a dream. 'Cos I'm the one who always remembers."

"Except Tanya."

It was then that Irvine realised that he still hadn't told Squall about Koshi. And, worse still, he didn't really know where to start.

"Anyway," Squall continued. "We ended up going all over the world in the Ragnarok, looking."

"Needle in a haystack," said Irvine, but something was nagging at the back of his mind. He almost had the answer.

"Then I woke up, and you were here, dripping. And now I want to fuck you," said Squall.

But Irvine was pulling himself away, off the bed.

"Where you going?" Squall asked, all disappointed indignance.

"Sorry babe." Irvine grabbed his jeans and tugged them on, wincing as he stuffed his still-hard cock into the unwelcoming denim. "I'll be back in a little while. There's just something I have to do."

"But-" Squall propped himself on his elbows, not quite believing what was happening. "You mean you're-"

Irvine risked another kiss, escaping just as Squall was about to wrap his arms around his neck and trap him there. "I'll be back, babe. Promise."

And with that, he was gone. Squall frowned at the closing door, mind still fuzzed with lust and the remnants of sleep.

"Oh," he said. "Bugger."

* * * * * * *

Mostly through shameless flirting, Irvine managed to convince the nurse on duty at the medical centre that any desire Koshi might have expressed to reject all visitors clearly didn't apply to him. He slipped into her room as she was eating breakfast; or at least shortly after her breakfast had been put on the table by her bed. She wasn't showing much interest in it.

She looked different: her brassy blonde hair was tied back in a smooth ponytail and she was dressed in an Estharian nightrobe which was a little too big for her and fell off one shoulder. She looked younger, somehow. The bruises were still there, tainting her jaw purple and yellow. She didn't spare him more than the briefest of glances.

"I told them no visitors."

Irvine ignored her and crossed the room to her bed. He put a box of truffles on the table next to her neglected breakfast. "Are you feeling any better?"

"What do you care?"

"It's my fault, isn't it? That you're here. So the least I can do is-"

"Spare me. I don't believe you anyway."

"I don't want to fight with you," said Irvine. "I want to help."

She hooked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and regarded him suspiciously. "I really don't think you _could_ help me, do you? I think you've come sniffing around here for information so you can help your boyfriend out." She must have caught the flicker of truth in his eyes before he looked away. "You must think I'm stupid."

"No. I don't. Anything you can tell us would be useful, but... look, Koshi. I'm very sorry for what happened. I know I treated you badly. But couldn't you-"

She sighed. "Just spit it out, Kinneas."

Irvine opened his mouth to protest, but one look at her face stopped him. He felt suddenly wretched and hopeless, his plans fallen to dust. He couldn't make up for treating her badly, or Selphie, or any of the women in between. It was too late.

"I need to know where Seifer and Cass are," he said, dully.

"What makes you think I know that?" She flared anger at him. "And more to the point, why the fuck should I tell you if I did?"

"I-"

"I don't owe you anything, Kinneas."

That was true. She didn't.

" This is about revenge, isn't it?" he said quietly. "You came here with Seifer to get your own back on me."

"You flatter yourself. I came with Seifer because I liked him. I'm a fool that way. I didn't even know you were here. I've spent most of the past two years trying to avoid you, and believe me, I really fucking wish I had this time as well."

He could see how hurt she was. Behind the bitterness she projected there were raw, painful emotions, and it was all there on her face. How he could have missed it before, how he could have not even realised who she was...

"I'm sorry. Look, this was a mistake. I'll just leave you alone."

"Thanks."

He hesitated at the door, and looked back.

"If you weren't looking for us, then...."

"I was supposed to be talking to Cass. For Seifer. But I saw you and him in the club, and I lost it. That's one reason I got this." She touched her face and winced.

"Seifer hit you?" Rage welled instantly in Irvine's gut; he could never have enough reasons to hate Seifer.

"No." She managed a bitter kind of laugh. "Cass did."

"Cass? Cass hit you?"

"Yeah. Kind of. Let's say she didn't know her own strength. She said if I'd done what Seifer asked me to, you wouldn't have got dragged into it. Or Squall. She seemed very concerned about Squall."

"But..."

"It doesn't matter, anyway. Seifer got what he came for, you and Squall have come out of it with your balls intact and I guess I got what's coming to me. So there you go. You're the fucking hero. You can take it from here."

It occurred to Irvine to wonder why Koshi thought she deserved to end up battered and bruised in a medical facility. But he didn't say anything.

"That's your cue to leave," she said, when he didn't move.

"Alright," he said, reluctantly. "But if you change your mind..."

The look she gave him made it perfectly clear she wouldn't.

* * * * * * *

Squall tapped his pencil on the pad in front of him, trying not to keep looking at the door. It's not as if Irvine even knew about this meeting; his father had called after Irvine had left.

And Irvine hadn't come back.

He'd asked Quistis to tell Irvine where he was, if she should see him. As casually as he could. Martine and Laguna would be here soon, and he had to concentrate. Irvine was fine, probably off training or something. It's not as if they were joined at the hip.

Except...

He'd been upset about something last night, Squall was sure of it. Kind of quiet and withdrawn, and although the sex had been phenomenal - a little smile crept onto Squall's face at the memory - everything else about Irvine was off. It was times like this Squall wished he'd written down every single bit of advice Rinoa had ever given him. Or had the courage to talk to someone else about it.

The door swooshed open, and his heart surged before his mind had a chance to still it with reason. Of course it wasn't Irvine. It was Martine. Worse still, it was just Martine; no Laguna.

"Morning Leonhart," he said, gruffly.

"Morning," said Squall. "Have you seen-"

"Cid just arrived. I believe Laguna's gone to meet him. They'll be along shortly."

Martine put a folder down on the table, choosing, as usual, the spot directly opposite Squall. He went to the side table and poured himself coffee.

"I take it this is bad news. First the City's closed, and now Cid turns up. That usually means things are heading towards some kind of disaster."

"I'd rather wait until the others get here before we start the meeting," said Squall abruptly.

"Alright." Martine stirred his coffee, glancing sidelong at Squall with a curious expression on his face. Squall shifted uncomfortably, without really knowing why. Martine often made him feel uncomfortable - particularly for being young and inexperienced - but this was a whole new world of uncomfortable. He looked almost amused.

Squall ignored him, returning his attention to his tapping pencil, concentrating hard to keep himself otherwise still.

"I hear you've taken up with Irvine Kinneas," said Martine.

Squall's pencil flew out of his hand and landed with a clatter on the floor behind him.

He stared at Martine, his mouth open but empty of words.

"I always liked him," Martine continued, ignoring Squall's reaction. "He's got more potential than he knows. Don't ever take him for granted."

Squall closed his mouth, and blinked slowly. Martine held his gaze.

"I hope he found what he's looking for," he said. Almost to himself.

Squall hadn't even begun to gather his wits when the door opened again to admit Cid and Laguna. Suddenly he was caught up in a wash of parental affection, too shocked even to brush off the hugs and hair-ruffling.

By the time he'd recovered, the bustle of greetings and coffee-getting was over, and Squall found himself flanked by Laguna on one side and Cid on the other.

How did Martine know? Did Cid know, too? Had Laguna put out a bulletin over all of Esthar or something...?

"How are you coping, son?" Cid's hand folded over Squall's, patted it a couple of times.

Squall pulled his had away and was about to say something snippy, but as soon as he caught the look on Cid's face he stopped himself. He recognised something there, something deep and hollow and painful. "Okay," he heard himself saying in a tight, choked voice. "I miss her."

"Me too, lad," said Cid, softly, and to Squall's embarassment tears pooled in the man's eyes. "All the time."

Martine and Laguna were talking about something in the background - Trabia, it sounded like - but Squall's head was fuzzed with emotion he couldn't deal with. Confusion at Martine's concern for Irvine; the familiar pang of emptiness at Rinoa's absence; and pity for Cid, which was always laced with resentment. Squall hadn't forgotten that it was Cid who'd dumped the burden of leadership on him. If Cid hadn't been so weak...

But more than that, Squall was forced to admit that this time he really did understand Cid's feelings. It was bad enough missing Rinoa the way he did, the broken link between them leaving a constant, nagging ache somewhere inside of him. But Cid loved Edea, really, truly, deep in his heart, and he'd already lost her once before. For the first time, Squall could imagine how that must feel. As if it wasn't just Rinoa who'd gone, but Irvine too...

He swallowed the last few cold drops of coffee, picked his pencil up, lay it carefully on the table and took a deep breath. He couldn't afford feelings. Not now. They had a sorceress to deal with, and he was commander of Balamb Garden. He had a job to do.

He cleared his throat, attracting expectant looks from all around the table, and when he spoke his voice was low and steady.

"We don't have time for small talk. Laguna's brought you here because we have a crisis on our hands. There's a new sorceress..."

And he drove on, relentlessly, with no pause for argument or even questions, until he'd relayed the story in as much detail as he could call to mind. By the time he'd finished he was firmly and securely back in command.

And if from time to time a voice chimed up in the back of his mind to wonder where Irvine was, he did his very best to ignore it.

* * * * * * *

He remembered now. He remembered being flattered by her devotion. He remembered sneaking her, giggling and nervous, into his room at Galbadia, where he made love to her for the first time. Astounded that she surrendered the gift of her virginity so freely.

He liked her, of course he did. But after a while it got too intense. She wanted to see him all the time. She kept telling him she loved him, but he couldn't say it back, because he knew what love felt like and this wasn't it. He dumped her, not to save her from heartache as he said at the time, but because he couldn't handle the way she felt about him. It made him feel guilty. So he'd told himself (and her) that a clean break was best, that she was better off without him.

He'd been an arrogant, selfish bastard, and she had every reason to hate him. What right did he have to come and ask her favours?

"Irvine?"

He jumped at the intrusion of Selphie's cheerful voice into his thoughts, suddenly brought back to the pink plastic reality of the tiny office they were working in. "What?"

"Are you okay? Only you've been staring at that screen for ages and even you don't read that slow."

"There's nothing here," said Irvine flatly. "Nothing at all. We'll never find her."

He rubbed at tired eyes, treating the chair leg to a savage kick for good measure.

"Of course we will, silly," said Selphie. "Don't worry."

Irvine grunted.

"Why don't you go find Squall? Take him for lunch. Or something." The giggle in her voice suggested just what form something might take, and Irvine would make himself a liar if he told her he wasn't tempted.

But if he went to Squall now, he'd have to explain where he'd been this morning. He'd have to tell Squall exactly how much of a bastard he'd been. And an idiot, on top of that.

"Irvine, what the fuck's the matter with you?"

Suddenly there was no giggle in Selphie's voice at all; her pretty little face suddenly looked shrewd and determined, wise beyond her years.

There was no escaping Selphie when she looked at a person like that.

"I messed up," said Irvine.

Selphie's eyes narrowed, and Irvine flinched. She looked downright frightening now.

"How?"

He swallowed hard, and considered his escape routes.

There were none. They were in a windowless room, and Selphie was between him and the door. He didn't stand a chance.

"Tanya isn't really Tanya. She's called Koshi. I dated her when I was a cadet in Galbadia. She never forgave me."

"Oh." Selphie seemed relieved. "Is that all? I thought you'd done something mean to Squall," she said. "I would never have forgiven you."

He could well believe it.

"It made me think," he continued, brushing specks of dust off the desk. Not quite able to look her in the eye. "I've been a total bastard. I didn't really think about... Seffie, I'm sorry I hurt you."

"'s okay," she said, in a small voice.

"I didn't think. I've been so wrapped up in my own feelings, I didn't really... you know how much I care for you, Seffie. I can't believe that I hurt you."

"Irvine, stop. It wasn't just you, remember? Sure, we started fighting because you couldn't stop looking at other girls, but in the end... well, you kept your dick in your pants, didn't you? It was me who..."

"Shagged that guy I sort of knew from Galbadia." He shifted uncomfortably, blowing the bangs out of his eyes, only for them to flop back down again. "Yeah. About that."

"I was out of order," Selphie started. "I-"

"No, don't. It wasn't... look it wasn't just you, okay? I know I said all that stuff, because I was jealous, I really was, but... you weren't the only one. You remember what happened that night?"

"You went out," Selphie said. "We were here on weekend leave and you took off for the night after we had that fight. I went to some party and you said you went to a club."

"Yeah."

"Then-"

"Cass. I went to the Tomara and met up with Cass and we... well, stuff happened. I'm not proud of it. I was going to tell you, but then I found you in bed with whatshisname, and..."

He tailed off, waiting for her to start shouting. But she remained perfectly, coldly silent.

"Oh fuck. What a mess." Irvine buried his face in his hands, banging his elbows down on the desk.

"I wish you'd told me," she said, quietly. "But, you know, I don't really give a toss. We were over anyway, and I've got better things to do that go round pining after what might have been like a dumb puppy. If we were good together, neither of us would have... and Irvy, if we hadn't broken up, I wouldn't have locked you in a room with Squall for revenge. And if the two of you hadn't been forced to talk to each other..."

No tinsel. No leather. No ripping each others' clothes off and making love under snug covers as the snow fell outside.

No mornings waking up with a warm, happy feeling in his heart just at the sound of another person's breath.

"I still wish I hadn't hurt you," he whispered.

"This may come as a surprise, Irvine 'gods'-gift-to-women' Kinneas, but actually, I'm over it." Her eyes were vivid, piercing green, leaving him in no doubt that she meant every word. "You're like a brother to me, a big great dumb oaf of a brother, who I love dearly but really, I'm happy it's Squall you're playing grease the rifle with. Very happy. It's... right."

Irvine couldn't speak past the lump in his throat, so he tugged Selphie to him and hugged her hard instead, breathing the warm, familiar scent of her hair, gasping at her strength as she hugged him back, all but winding him.

Then he laughed. "Grease the rifle?"

Selphie shrugged. "You know what I mean. Now. Go talk to him. Tell him about Tanya, or Toshi or whatever her name is."

Irvine's face fell. "I can't."

Selphie made an exasperated little noise, and smacked him none-too-gently on the arm.

"It's not as if she was the only one," he said. "Or you, even, or Cass. There were... lots." He fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, tugging at a loose thread. Selphie tugged his hand away and held it in both of hers.

"Everybody knows you were a bit of a slut, Irvine. Squall's not that naive. He knew what he was getting himself into. It's not the past that counts. You're with him now."

"But-"

"And what's so important about this Koshi chick anyway?"

"I think she knows where Seifer might be. But she won't tell me, because she hates me. So if Squall doesn't find Seifer, and Cass takes over the world, it'll be all my fault."

Selphie was silent for a moment. Thinking. Absentmindedly stroking Irvine's big hand with her little one.

"You know, that's a pretty big leap of logic," she said eventually. "You don't think that Seifer might take just a little bit of the blame for being a raving meglomaniac?"

"Well... I guess."

"And Odine. Don't forget the mad scientist."

"Oh." Irvine had forgotten. Completely.

"You made a mistake, Irvy," she said gently. "It's okay. It happens to all of us."

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to let her words soothe him and take the guilt away.

But.

* * * * * * *

The meeting was over and Martine and Laguna had already left. Squall found himself alone with Cid, who sat cleaning his glasses with the edge of his sweater, while Squall gathered cups and stacked them on the tray. He didn't have to, but it seemed the right thing to do, for some reason.

He realised he was expecting Cid to talk to him. Wanting him to, even.

It seemed like an age before they so much as looked at each other, perhaps because it was so painful to see the loss reflected in each others' eyes.

"She must be very frightened," Cid said eventually.

Squall scowled at him, confused. Why would Rinoa or Edea be frightened? Was Cid keeping something from him? He fought back panic. "Why? What happened?"

Then it was Cid's turn to look taken aback. "What do you mean, hap... Oh. Oh I see. No, I meant Cass. It must be hard for her, coming into her power all at once like that, with no-one to guide or protect her."

Squall hadn't really thought of that before. He suddenly remembered the way she'd kissed him in the alley outsde the Torama. And how upset she'd been afterwards.

Seifer must have been waiting for him to go inside, he realised. He'd probably seen everything, while Tanya distracted Irvine, and of course when Squall had left Cass alone he would have moved in...

Shit.

"She has Seifer," he said flatly.

"Not as her knight, surely!" Cid seemed shocked by the idea.

"I think that was the plan all along. He must miss it, however bad Ultimecia was. I can only imagine-"

"But to take on a new sorceress... I don't think that's ever happened before. And besides, why would she accept him? He's the one who kidnapped her, after all, and-"

"Assuming she was kidnapped. If she was looking for help, if she thought he could be her knight, she would have gone willingly, wouldn't she?"

Cid let that sink in a little. "If she was just coming into her powers... uncertain, impressionable... yes. You're right, she would have accepted help from anyone who seemed to understand. And Almasy would have known exactly what to say."

"Yes." Squall ran his fingers through his hair. If only he hadn't left her in that alley. If only-

"There's no room for regret in leadership, Squall. You can't make the right choice every time."

Squall bristled. "That's not the point."

"I think-"

"Whatever. I don't care who's fault it was. The point is that Seifer's out there with a sorceress we know nothing about, and a scientist just dangerous enough to make things worse. I need to find them. And soon."

"Yes," said Cid. "And I'm right behind you, son. Every step of the way."

Squall would dearly have loved to have been able to say that. For a moment he wished, and not for the first time, that Cid had been stronger; that he hadn't deserted Garden when it needed him most; that he hadn't burdened Squall with duties and responsibilities which were way ahead of his years.

But then if he hadn't, who's to say what would have happened to Rinoa and Irvine and the rest of them? What if Ultimecia had won?

No, it was better this way.

Even so, it was with a weary set to his shoulders that Squall finally left Cid and the meeting room, and went in search of Irvine.

* * * * * * *

Quistis slipped into Koshi's room, and lay a set of clothes carefully over the back of a chair.

"These are for you," she said. "I think we're about the same size, although it might not be what you'd usually wear. Still, I hope they'll be comfortable for you."

"They'll be fine, I'm sure. Thank you, it's very kind of you. I'll return them, once I get home." Koshi gave Quistis a smile; the first genuine smile she'd offered since she'd been brough in. It lit up her face, made her look pretty. She seemed different; more subdued. Less angry.

"I hope Selphie didn't wear you out," Quistis said. "She can be a bit over-enthusiastic sometimes."

"No. She was very, um, interesting to talk to."

Quistis arched an eyebrow, but Koshi avoided her gaze, suddenly intent on examining her hair for split ends.

"When do you think they'll let me go?" she said.

"It looks like that might be a little while yet." Quistis crossed to the window, and looked out at the fading daylight, the twinkling lights still subdued by the last shafts of bright, winter sun. "Movement throughout the City is severely restricted at the moment. They even cancelled the Music Festival."

"The what?"

"The Music Festival. It's a big annual event, I understand, and Laguna was determined it was to go ahead, but the police talked him out of it. Risk of mass hysteria, I believe."

"Hysteria? Why?"

Quistis ran one fingertip slowly along the window blind, marvelling at the total lack of dust. "Because there's a powerful sorceress on the loose. The people of Esthar tend to get nervous about sorceresses, I believe."

She didn't turn, but she could see Koshi's reflection clearly enough in the slightly mirrored window to note her surprise.

The girl really couldn't see past the end of her nose.

"You can't deny she's powerful," Quistis continued.

Koshi put a hand up to her jaw and the swelling there that had yet to subside. "No, I suppose not. But... Surely she wouldn't hurt people?"

"She hurt you."

"But that was different. She was mad at me, she didn't know her own strength, really. It's not as if she meant to do any damage. Or at least I don't think so. She was just trying to protect-"

"It's a terrible thing, responsibility."

There was a pause.

"What do you mean?" Koshi's voice was quiet. Wary.

"Well, sometimes we can end up being responsible for things that we can't control. I imagine that would be very frightening."

"I don't know what you-"

"Like starting a fire." Quistis squinted throught the blind at the street below, as if she were looking for something or someone. "You might only have meant it to be a little fire, perhaps a small campfire to cook on. Perfectly innocent. Something you could easily put out if there was any danger. But then you accidentally toss something on it that's more flammable than you thought, and suddenly the flames are forty feet high and out of control. Whoosh. Just like that. It's still your fire, your responsibility - but you can't do a damn thing to stop it. You just have to watch as it consumes the whole forest and everything in it."

Koshi's head was bowed; Quistis thought she saw her shoulders shake.

"I don't know what happened between you and Irvine," Quistis said. "And to be honest, I don't much care. I know he hasn't always behaved very well. But this isn't about you and Irvine any more. It's about the safety of ordinary, innocent people, here in Esthar and all over the world. I can understand the need for revenge, even though it doesn't appeal to me much personally. But this isn't about revenge. It's gone way beyond that. A sorceress isn't something to take lightly. Cass is more than capable of destroying this planet and everyone on it, if she so desired, and as she seems to be totally unstable, that could be exactly what she desires. Do you understand me, Koshi?"

There was a pause; Quistis thought she heard a muffled sob.

"Koshi?"

"Yes," said Koshi, so quietly Quistis barely heard her.

"Good." Quistis turned from the window and smiled pleasantly. "Now, will you please tell me where Seifer and Cass are?"

Koshi looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to be like this. It wasn't supposed to-"

"I know, dear," said Quistis. "Here." She passed Koshi a box of tissues. "Dry your eyes. And then we'll go and find a map."

* * * * * * *

It had been a long day, one interminable meeting after another, mostly about security and communications. The Estharians wanted to clamp down on the former, and minimise the latter. Which was all very well for Esthar, but Squall needed to know what was going on outside. It took him an hour just to convince them to lower the shields for long enough to get a message to Xu.

And he still hadn't found Irvine. Or rather, Irvine hadn't found Squall, as Squall hadn't had a minute to himself to do any looking. So it was with surprise and huge relief that Squall opened the door to his quarters to find a familiar hat and duster flung over the back of a chair.

"Irvine?"

"In here, babe."

Squall hurried eagerly into the bedroom, where he found Irvine sitting cross-legged on the bed, with a parcel in front of him. He also appeared to be reading an official report, much to Squall's astonishment.

Squall tried to keep a bit of cool distance between them - after all, Irvine had gone off that morning without a word, and hadn't answered any of his messages. But Irvine looked up at him with such a pathetic expression on his face that he just couldn't.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, babe. Here. I got you a present."

"It's not my birthday."

"No, I know that. It's just a gift."

"Oh."

Irvine gave him a quizzical sort of grin. "So, you gonna come here and open it?"

"Um. Yeah." Squall joined Irvine on the bed, and obediently tugged at ribbon and paper. The warm, familiar smell of leather wafted up to greet him.

It was a black, full length leather duster, with belt and buckles that made a satisfying clinking noise as he pulled it out of the wrappings.

He didn't know what to say.

"You'd better try it on," said Irvine. "I can take it back if it doesn't fit right."

It fit perfectly.

"I don't know what to say," Squall mumbled. But he guessed Irvine could tell he was pleased anyway, because he saw the reflected pleasure in his eyes as he gathered Squall up in a creak of leather and a jingle of buckles and kissed him. Squall felt himself melt into Irvine's arms; it seemed so long since he'd let him go that morning, and it felt so good.

"Damn, but you look sexy in that," Irvine mumbled, running his hand down Squall's spine to slap his leather-clad bottom.

"I've never bought you anything," said Squall.

"I've already got a coat," Irvine pointed out. "It's no big deal. I just thought you could do with one. And I have a few contacts here in Esthar." He was kissing Squall's neck, his face warm and soft with a hint of evening stubble.

"They cancelled the music festival," said Squall.

"So I heard. So..."

"Dad was really disappointed. I don't think I really understood before, how difficult he finds the people here to deal with."

"Different culture, eh?"

"Yeah. And they're so difficult. They don't always listen, even though they think the world of him." Squall recognised a glimmer of pride in him at that, which surprised him. The more time he spent with Laguna, the better he was coming to understand the way he worked. He had to admit that over the past few days he'd seen a lot of complexity under the blundering fool he'd taken his father for. He'd learned more about diplomacy and leadership from watching him than Cid had ever taught him.

"He seems happy, though."

"Yeah. Well, he always does. I think he's one of those people that makes the best of every situation, you know?"

"Yes." There was a twinkle in Irvine's eyes that suggested that perhaps Squall wasn't exactly the first person to notice that about Laguna.

"Hn."

Irvine's hand slipped inside the duster and around Squall's waist, tugging him closer. He kissed him, soft and gentle, teasing. Good.

But there was something wrong. Squall knew there was something wrong. Ignoring the sudden desire that flared though his body, Squall pulled back.

"You left, this morning," he said.

"Yeah." Irvine looked down, and away, and his arms dropped from Squall's waist. "Sorry."

"Whatever. It's just..." Squall grasped for words, feeling horribly out of his depth. "You okay?"

"I-"

Irvine raised his eyes, and Squall could see for himself that he wasn't.

"I'm fine," Irvine lied.

Squall tentatively reached out and brushed Irvine's bangs back from his face. "No," he said, simply.

Irvine looked panicked then. Scared, even.

He spoke all in a rush. "There's something I have to tell you."

Squall's heart thudded. This was it. Irvine was bored with him. He'd had enough. He'd found some girl he liked better and... He tried to think straight, to listen to the calmer voice inside that reminded him that Irvine had said he loved him, that Irvine was still holding him, that Irvine had made love to him last night in a way that...

He'd been worried then, Squall remembered. Something wasn't right, even when they felt so close, so-

Irvine was pulling away; Squall had been brooding just long enough for him to lose his nerve, it looked like.

"Tell me." It came out more harshly than he'd intended; even to his own ears he sounded gruff and commander-like, no matter how small he felt inside.

Irvine slumped back on the bad, and stared at his feet. "It's about Tanya."

Oh gods. Oh Hyne. Oh fuck.

He remembered lipstick and the way her perfume lingered in Irvine's hair when he'd almost caught them in the back room of the Torama.

Cold dread spread through Squall like poison. He felt numb.

"It's all my fault."

Squall didn't want to hear it. He shrugged off the duster and flung it in a chair, reaching for his old jacket on the way out.

"Squall?"

He should just keep walking, he knew he should, but there was something in Irvine's voice that stopped him.

He didn't want to know, but at the same time he had to. He cleared his throat, squashing down the panic. He couldn't turn around, couldn't look at Irvine at all.

"What's your fault?"

"Koshi did this to get back at me. It's my fault."

"Who the fuck's Koshi?" Squall's mind was a ball of confusion. He forced himself to breathe.

"Tanya. I remembered, and... Squall, I know you're mad, you've every right to be, but... please, wait and hear me out. I need to tell you this."

Squall clenched his fists; it was almost more than he could bear.

"Please? You need to know."

Squall spun around and glared at him, and Irvine noticably flinched. "Hurry the fuck up, then."

"Babe-"

"No. No fucking Babe. Just tell me."

Irvine looked more worried than he had last time they faced a ruby dragon. A lot more. He was shredding a bit of the gift wrap with anxious fingers, not able to meet Squall's gaze.

"I went out with Tanya back in Galbadia. Koshi's her real name, she looked a lot different then, I didn't recognise her. I didn't treat her well, and she took it personally, and all this time... this is all about her hating me. She won't help us because of me."

Squall watched the bits of paper flutter to the floor between Irvine's feet. His mind started to clear.

Irvine wasn't leaving him.

"So..."

"I think she knows where Seifer is," Irvine continued miserably. "I thought maybe if I talked to her, reasoned with her, apologised to her, she'd come round and tell me, but she wouldn't. If anything I think she hates me more than ever. If it wasn't for me she wouldn't have run away to FH and met Seifer, and Seifer wouldn't have found Cass..."

Squall slumped down on the bed next to Irvine, suddenly exhausted as the rage and fear melted away. Irvine wasn't leaving him. Irvine hadn't been unfaithful to him. Irvine didn't want someone else.

"What did you do to her, exactly?" He rested a hand tentatively on Irvine's thigh, and he could sense Irvine's relief in the muscles that quivered under his touch.

"I used her, I guess," Irvine said quietly. "I did that a lot after Rainbow. I didn't see it that way at the time, but looking back... I didn't realise it meant more to her than that. But I should have."

Squall waited for a moment.

"Is that all?" he asked.

Irvine ventured a weak smile. "Isn't it enough?"

Squall shrugged. "We all make mistakes."

"But-"

Irvine still wanted him.

Squall grabbed Irvine's shoulders, kissed him hard, passionately, so forcefully that he pressed him back down onto the bed. Because he couldn't explain. How could he tell Irvine he'd doubted him, even for a second? And that if it wasn't true, if Irvine still loved him, hadn't gone off with anyone else, still wanted to be here, that nothing else in the world mattered?

"I love you." He managed to choke out the words between gasping sobs of breath that he hoped Irvine would think were something to do with passion. "It's okay."

Irvine hugged him so tight he could hardly breathe. "Oh gods," he whispered. "I thought you were going to be so mad."

"Not mad," said Squall, sliding his hand under Irvine's shirt to feel his bare belly. "'s okay." He let the tingles from the touch of Irvine's skin race up his arm, lust fogging his brain and relieving him of any need to think. He kissed Irvine again, more softly, twined his tongue around Irvine's and sucked the tip, feeling the resulting shudder course through his lover's body. His hand reached up under Irvine's shirt to find a nipple, brushing it swiftly to hardness, stroking and pinching it lightly until Irvine groaned, his own fingers clutching tight at Squall's hips, fumbling with belts.

Then there was a noise, and Irvine was murmuring, "babe, the door," even though he was showing no sign of letting Squall go, and too late Squall realised he hadn't put the lock code on the door when he came in, he'd been so pleased to find Irvine home...

"Squall?"

Squall recognised Quistis' voice and was caught between the drive to spring guiltily apart from Irvine and a deep anger at having been interrupted. In the end he let go of Irvine with a whimper and barked out "in here!" with as steady a voice as he could manage.

He glared at Quistis with sullen reluctance as she came into the room, and knew instantly that he must have looked mad, because she flinched. But being Quistis, she rallied immediately. "I'm sorry to interrupt you," she said.

"Good," said Squall. Irvine chuckled, his hand stroking Squall's back in calming circles.

"We need you in Laguna's office now," said Quistis, and Squall felt a little rush up his spine at the tone of her voice.

"Why?" he asked, gruffly.

She smiled at him, and her expression was one of triumph.

"We think we know where Seifer is," she said.


	7. Follow

On the nineteenth morning that Irvine woke up next to Squall, it felt as if he'd hardly slept at all. Mostly because he hadn't, much. It felt like a long time since they'd camped out in the field, and his back and hip bones were complaining loudly.

To add insult to injury, they weren't even alone - as the loud, buzz-saw style snoring coming from Zell's bedroll testified. Irvine pulled the covers firmly over his ears. It didn't help much.

"He hasn't got any quieter," came Squall's gruff voice through the thin layer of Balamb-issue blanket.

"No. And hey." Irvine peeked out to find Squall watching him, fully dressed and kneeling on his unused bedroll. "Morning, beautiful."

Squall grunted, but a smile crept onto his face and he moved closer, dropping down, hands planted firmly each side of Irvine's head. "Time to get up, Sniper."

"The sun's not even up yet." Irvine tugged Squall's head down further so he could kiss him, a brief brush of lips, but Squall took it long, his fingers burying themselves in Irvine's sleep-tangled hair to cradle his skull. He pulled Irvine up to sitting, not breaking their kiss for an instant, and Irvine wound his arms around Squall's neck, groaning, not caring if the others heard.

He was convinced there was a twinkle of mischief in Squall's eyes as he pulled away. "I made coffee," he said. "Come outside now and we can have some before everyone else wakes up."

Irvine nodded, plucked his thick shirt and duster from his disorderly pile of clothes, and followed Squall out into the cold, grey morning. His jeans felt uncomfortable, slept in and twisted the wrong way - much like his body - and he really would have loved to drag Squall into a nice hot shower and molest him until they were both fully awake. But there was no chance of a shower today, or tomorrow if they didn't find Seifer. As if Irvine needed any more of an incentive to seek out the bastard and put him through ten kinds of hell.

He found his lover kneeling by a low fire, pouring water from a freshly boiled kettle. His breath steamed in the air; the ground crunched under his boots as he stomped across their makeshift campsite in the Nortes mountains.

"Here." Squall handed him a steaming mug of coffee, and Irvine's grumpiness fell away. Here was Squall, who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, who looked tired and worried and anxious as hell, making him coffee and asking to spend time with him. Suddenly the sex didn't seem so important any more. He accepted the mug gratefully, and when Squall settled beside him he took his hand and threaded their fingers together.

"Did you get any sleep at all, babe?"

Squall shrugged. "Too much going on."

"Any news?"

"Not for a while now. The recon parties should be back within the hour, then we can get moving. Seifer chose the right place to hide."

Irvine surveyed the horizon; the snow-dusted ridges of the mountains suffused with pink as the sun climbed up behind them. "Definitely the right place to hide. Not like Seifer at all. He's usually more for a 'bring-it-on' style of approach."

"Maybe it was Cass' idea."

"Maybe." Irvine remembered the last time they'd seen Cass, wild with magic, starkly beautiful. Dangerous.

He watched the mountains, cradling his coffee to take the chill out of his hands and trying to imagine Cass as a sorceress. It seemed impossible.

"What'll happen to her?" he asked quietly.

"Cass?"

"Yeah. When we find her. Can we cure her? Make her like she was?"

Squall shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, babe, you know it doesn't. Once she's had the sorceress' power she'll always be dangerous. Another sorceress could possess her, or her own power could consume her... that's why we need to find her and... well, do whatever we have to do."

"You're not saying... Squall, we can't kill her!"

Squall frowned, concerned, as if he was surprised that Irvine hadn't realised this before. "We may have to. Of course we'll try not to, but if she's a threat... Irvine, we're SeeD. It's what we're here for."

"But there must be a way to stop her, to help her deal with her power, to-"

"We'll try," said Squall, but he didn't sound very reassuring. Probably because he was worried himself; Squall wasn't good at putting on a front for other people. "Cid had an idea," he added, cautiously.

"What kind of idea?"

"He seems to think Cass would be okay if we found her a knight."

"Would she?"

"I don't know. They say that's why Adel was so dangerous, because she didn't have a knight."

"Right. So who?"

"That's just it. I don't know. We don't understand how it works, not really. That's one of the reasons Rinoa felt she had to go."

Squall was watching the fire, prodding it with a twig to make sparks, and Irvine didn't miss the sadness in his eyes as he spoke about Rinoa. Irvine stared into the fire himself, swallowing his jealousy as best he could. "There seems to be something romantic about it," he observed, as casually as he could manage. "I mean, Cid and Edea are married, and you... when you first met Rinoa, it was like something out of a novel. All the rescuing from space and all, and the way she-"

"She was the first person who wouldn't give up on me," said Squall. "Maybe because of the link between us. However much I tried to push her away, she'd always come right back. And it felt... even though I hated it, I felt something there, all the time."

Irvine swallowed hard, and curled his fingers possessively around Squall's hand.

"You loved her."

"Yes. But." Squall darted a look at him, a slight smile on his lips. "Not that kind. It's totally different."

"But you still miss her."

Squall nodded. "Like Cid misses Edea, and Seifer misses Ultimecia."

Irvine snorted, sending little ripples across the surface of his coffee. "As if Seifer would know what love feels like."

Squall didn't say anything. He drained his mug and shook out the last few drops, then his eyes were drawn back to the mountainous horizon.

"I hope it's soon," said Irvine. "No amount of thinking about this is going to make it any better."

"No," Squall agreed. "It isn't."

* * * * * * *

It was another four hours before a recon party met them with news of a positive sighting. Not surprising, really; Squall wanted badly to be able to surprise their quarry, which meant that flying low over the terrain would have been counterproductive as well as dangerous. So he'd despatched squads of three, each one a mixture of SeeDs and Estharian soldiers, to search on the ground.

And they'd found something. Not much, just what looked like an abandoned camp, but it showed signs of recent habitation and that was enough for Squall to decide to investigate in person, with the rest of the orphanage gang plus Laguna and Kiros for company.

They trudged through the snow for several long miles before they reached the site; the mountains made for heavy going, and it was early afternoon by the time they arrived at a small clearing. Sure enough there was evidence of tents and fires. Lots of fires. Several of the surrounding trees showed signs of fire damage too, and Quistis and Kiros went to take a closer look.

"Magical fire damage," said Quistis. "I'd say she's been practising. Doesn't look as though she's found too much control yet, though." She wrinkled her nose. "Unless she really hates squirrels."

Selphie giggled. "Handy to have around at a barbeque, these sorceresses."

"Man, Seffie, sometimes you frighten me," said Zell. Selphie just shrugged.

Squall sent Kiros off to the edge of the clearing to check for tracks, while Quistis prodded the remains of the campfire. "About two, maybe three hours," she said. "They got quite a head start."

"Especially as we have no idea what form of transport they're using," said Selphie.

"Must be on foot," said Zell. "You'd never get a vehicle through here and a choc won't hack it at this altitude."

"Ah," said Selphie. "Except for the lesser known mountain-ranging chocobo." Irvine hid his smile as a puzzled expression crossed Zell's face.

"I don't remember..." He frowned. "Mountain-ranging?"

"Mmm." Selphie nodded eagerly. "They have fur, of course, instead of feathers. And big flat feet like snow shoes."

"Really?" Zell was all wide-eyed wonder for an instant, before Selphie erupted in giggles.

She thumped him affectionately on the shoulder. "Dincht, you are such an easy wind-up!"

Zell opened his mouth to protest, but before any sound came out their attention was summoned by Squall's barked command for them to join himself, Laguna and Kiros at the edge of the clearing.

"Why only two sets of prints?" Laguna was asking Kiros as they approached. "Who's missing?"

"Odine," said Kiros. "I think Seifer's carrying him: see, those prints are deeper, more distinct than Cass', even if you take into account the weight differential. Shorter stride than you'd expect if he was unencumbered."

"So Odine's injured?" said Squall.

"I don't think so," said Kiros. "See, over there around the camp there's three sets of prints, and no sign of any injury."

"Then he's carrying him to keep him under control," suggested Laguna. "You know what Odine's like, he'd be forever wandering off and bustling about here and there. He'd hold them up."

"Exactly," said Kiros.

"But they haven't dumped him," Squall observed. "So they must still have a use for him. We can't let them get any further ahead. Kiros, lead the way, follow the tracks as best you can. Everyone else fall in, usual formation, and keep your wits about you."

With a swish of long leather coat, Squall swept out of the clearing, hot on Kiros' heels as he scanned the ground ahead. Irvine ran to catch Squall up, as the others obediently fell in line.

"Squall, what? What do they need Odine for? They gave Cass the kick-ass power, what else do they want? You know something, don't you? What is it?"

Squall didn't look at him, his mouth set in a grim line. "I know Seifer."

"And?"

"Put it this way," said Squall, picking up the pace as he led them away from the clearing. "I don't think we're the only ones who think the sorceress needs a knight."

* * * * * *

The forest gave way to scrub as they climbed higher in the mountains, and the air got thinner. Squall had banished Irvine back to his place in the line, bringing up the rear with Selphie, and he hated it. He wanted to be at Squall's side, to be sure he was okay and to face whatever they were going to face together. But there was no point wishing; he respected Squall's command as much as he always had, and of course it made sense this way, strategically. Just not emotionally, Irvine thought glumly.

"So let me get this straight," Selphie was saying. She gave her nunchaka an absentminded crack, sudden enough that Irvine jumped. "Seifer's goal in all of this is to replace Ultimecia as his own personal sorceress."

"Squall thinks so," said Irvine.

"Has the boy no brains at all?!"

"I never thought so," Quistis murmured from just ahead of them.

"He's an idiot," Selphie said. "Why can't he find a nice ordinary girl and settle down? You know I always thought him and Fujin..."

"They had a thing going at one time," said Quistis.

Something stirred in the back of Irvine's mind, something Squall had told him.

"Let me guess," said Selphie. "She dumped him."

That was it. The girl Seifer had fallen for, the one he wanted Squall to help him get over. The bastard.

"Yes. She caught him two timing her. With Squall."

"No," Irvine leapt in to correct her before it dawned on him that Squall had told him about this in confidence. "I mean, um, I don't think he meant to two-time her, probably. I don't think. Or, maybe. Um."

He tailed off; Quistis looked curiously at him over her shoulder.

"Squall told you?" she said.

"About Seifer? Sure. Why wouldn't he?"

Quistis laughed. "Because he's Squall, of course. It's not like he generally makes broadcasts about his social life."

Irvine was about to say that it was more of a confidence than a broadcast, but Selphie leapt into the pause in conversation with: "I'm sorry, did you say Seifer and _Squall_?!"

"Yep," said Quistis and Irvine in smug unison.

"Fuck me gently with a gunblade!" gasped Selphie.

"It's no secret," said Quistis. "But since Rinoa and Ultimecia, it faded into the background. And it's not the kind of thing he'd like us to be gossiping about," she added, as if it hadn't been her who'd brought it up in the first place.

Zell, silent up until now at Quistis' side, grunted his agreement.

Selphie pondered the revelation for a moment.

"It makes perfect sense," she decided. "They were always fighting, weren't they, even when we were kids, and yet they never really fell out. Opposites attract and all that. There's definitely chemistry. And glowering." She chuckled, swinging her nunchaka back and forth, almost but not quite catching Zell on the butt every time. "I bet they were savage in bed."

"Selphie!" yelped Irvine. "That's my boyfriend you're talking about!"

"Oops, sorry." Selphie hugged his arm and beamed up at him, but her smile barely took the edge off the sharp twist of jealousy in his gut.

"Anyway, that's all history," said Quistis briskly. "Squall's happy with Irvy now and Seifer's lurching around with any sorceress who'll have him."

"He needs neutering," muttered Irvine.

"That's a little harsh," said Quistis.

"Seems fair to me," said Irvine. "Take away his knight magic thing, like you cut the balls off dogs when they're humping the furniture all the fucking time."

"Oh, I'm not sure that's necessary," said Selphie, a gleam of mischief in her eyes that instantly told Irvine he was falling into a trap.

"Really?"

"After all." She smiled sweetly at him. "We let you keep yours, and that worked out just fine."

* * * * * * *

Squall was dimly aware of a slap and a squeak and an outburst of giggling behind him, but he let it recede to the back of his mind with an ease which at once shocked and pleased him. He needed to concentrate, to pull himself out of ordinary life and all its distractions. How else could he lead and protect the others, when they so clearly didn't have the maturity do it for themselves?

"So, have you thought about that vacation, son?"

Squall stared at Laguna in total disbelief. "What?"

Laguna appeared oblivious to his son's irritated tone, however. "Seems to me you'll all need a break after this."

"I can't think about that now!" Squall snapped.

"Ah. No, of course not. Sorry."

"This is serious, you know. If we don't get this right there won't be any afterwards, or at least not one worth living in."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't come to that." Laguna grinned at him. "I have every confidence in you, son."

"Thanks," said Squall, drily.

They walked for a few moments in silence, as Squall tried to think of an appropriate way to ask Laguna to return to his place in the formation. He didn't technically have any authority over the man, even if it had been Laguna who'd put him in charge of the mission. Besides, he was his father. How did you give orders to your-

"I hope you'll still bring Irvine to the music festival, when it's been rearranged. Real pisser that we had to postpone it like that."

Squall said nothing, and counted slowly to twenty.

"That is, if you're still together, after this."

"What?" The world fell away, just like that, and suddenly Squall was choking down panic.

"I heard what Cid was saying yesterday," said Laguna, gently. "She needs a knight. A link to the world. Someone to ground her. See, I know a bit about sorceresses, and knights. There was a lot of the same talk when Adel was around."

Squall's heart was pounding; he licked suddenly-dry lips and swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the ground.

"Would it be fair on him, what you're planning to do?" Laguna asked in his softest tone, the one that made Squall feel raw and vulnerable inside. Wishing he'd heard it earlier, when he was young, when he needed a father to guide him. Love him. Not now. Too late now, and dangerous. But Laguna carried on. "It's one thing for him to cope with your bond with Rinoa when she's the other side of the galaxy. But this... she'd be around all the time, you'd be helping her train, calming her, taming her..."

"She's not a fucking wild animal," Squall spat, latching on to the first chance he got to channel the feelings welling inside of him into something that was nothing to do with Irvine.

"No, but... listen, all I'm saying is, before you rush into this, isn't there another way? One that doesn't threaten your own happiness? Think about it. How much can the world ask you to give up, Squall?"

Squall squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, squashing the emotions he daren't feel far, far down inside himself.

"Whatever it damn well pleases," he ground out. "Just the same as always."

And with that he lengthened his stride, almost-ran until he'd left Laguna behind and caught up with Kiros, who was focused only on patterns in the dirt and leaves, and could be trusted not to say anything at all.

* * * * * * *

Irvine pulled the fur collar of his duster up to his ears, and blinked snow off his eyelashes. The road was getting harder, the trail fainter, and even Selphie had fallen into a subdued silence.

Squall's hand went up; they came to a stop.

"There's nothing." Kiros' rich voice drifted back with another flurry of snow. "The visibility's too bad. Maybe when the light's better-"

"We can't wait that long," snapped Squall.

"We won't catch up if we go off in the wrong direction because we can't see where we're going," Quistis pointed out.

"Besides, they have to rest too," added Laguna.

Squall lifted his eyes to the pale glow of the sun, which was already dipping behind the ridge of the mountain ahead. Irvine could sense his anger and frustration. Quistis was right of course, and so was Laguna. But it didn't change the fact that Seifer had an undeniable advantage, and that was eating Squall up inside.

"There's a cave up ahead," said Kiros. "We could rest there until the storm passes."

The snow was getting thicker, the wind harsher, and Squall knew he had no choice. His shoulders slumped. "Alright then. We'll rest for a couple of hours, see if it blows over."

"Thank fuck for that," muttered Selphie. "I'm turning blue here."

"I'm not surprised, in that skirt," said Quistis.

"I grew up in Trabia. We're used to the cold. Usually." She slung her nunchaka over her shoulder and tried to rub some feeling back into her legs.

They found the cave a few yards further along, and Kiros led them inside to bustle about with supplies and fire spells. Squall stayed outside, staring ahead at what should have been a path, but was now just more snow. Irvine stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around his middle, ignoring the initial resistance Squall offered and hugging him anyway.

"Off duty," Irvine whispered. "You're mine now."

And then Squall leaned back and let himself be held, folded his arms over Irvine's and sighed. "Sorry. It's just..."

"... you have to be leader. I know, babe. But not right now. Take a few minutes, eh?"

Squall grunted, and relaxed a bit more, rubbing his cold cheek against Irvine's. It was quiet, absolute snow-quiet, even the chatter from the cave receding to a whisper, and Irvine nuzzled into the warmth of Squall's neck, willing him to feel the peace of it.

"Whatever happens," Squall said softly, "whatever I have to do, I love you."

A chill that was nothing to do with the weather shot up Irvine's spine. He did his best to hide it. "I know, love," he said. "Me too."

"If we don't find a way to stop Cass, the whole world could be in danger. If it weren't for that..."

"You have to do what you think is right. Whatever that might be."

Squall sighed.

"You're freezing," said Irvine. "Let's go join the others, okay?"

And with a last kiss to Squall's snow-chilled skin, Irvine let him go.

* * * * * * *

The others were huddled around a fire in the middle of the cave, but the delicious warmth of the blaze wasn't the main focus of attention. Instead all eyes were on Laguna, who sat cross-legged with a huge white moomba on his lap. He was tickling the creature's tummy, while it waggled its ears and made delighted little noises.

"Look, Irvy, it's a mountain moomba!" Selphie squealed delightedly. "Isn't it adorable?"

"In the name of Hyne," Squall muttered, staring at the creature as if it had absolutely no place in his current grim reality.

"This is it's home," Laguna explained. "But it's very generously agreed to let us share."

"Laguna!" the creature chirruped excitedly. "Laguna! Laguna!"

"My father," murmured Squall. "Hero of all moombas."

"Don't be so grumpy." Selphie smacked Squall's arm. "Sir Laguna saved their leader and set up the rest home and everything! He deserves to be famous!"

Squall scowled at his arm, which smarted despite the layer of leather between it and Selphie's slap. "Rest home?"

"It's nothing," said Laguna, modestly.

"Rubbish," said Selphie. "It's this huge luxury retirement home for all the moombas who were abused under the old regime. They never turn a moomba away, do they, Sir Laguna?"

"I've always had a soft spot for the little guys," Laguna confessed. The creature in his lap crooned happily, wiggling its furry feet.

"They saved our necks more than once," said Zell. "All power to the little dudes."

Irvine sat down by Selphie, tugging Squall down with him, slipping a hand into one of his. "It's sure nice to see a friendly face up here," he said.

Squall didn't look convinced. But he squeezed Irvine's hand, and pulled it into his lap, and Irvine thought he felt him relax a bit.

Quistis produced rations in the form of welcome mugs of soup; the warmth from the fire seeped into Irvine's weary bones as they ate, and he started to feel drowsy. Before he knew it his head was dropping onto Squall's shoulder, and to his delight a strong arm curled around him, holding him there; Squall's cheek rubbed against his head.

Irvine wanted, more than anything, to curl up in Squall's lap and start purring. But Squall was arguing with Quistis.

"It's dark," she said. "We can't possibly track them in the dark, even if the snow stops."

"Yes, we can," said Squall. "We'll have to take it slow, but slow is better than nothing." He stifled a yawn. "We have no time to waste."

"I don't think-"

But Quistis' voice tailed off; she knew as well as the rest of them that there was no point arguing with Squall. They'd all been here before, living on GF power instead of sleep for days on end. If that's what Squall said, they'd do it.

Squall sighed.

Irvine was starting to realise that such loyalty and trust wasn't the gift he'd supposed it would be. The closer he got to Squall, the more clearly he saw just how hard he found it to be a leader.

"Let's get some sleep while we can, then," said Laguna.

"I'll take first watch," said Squall, much to Irvine's disappointment.

"I'm with you," he said, earning a grateful squeeze to his shoulder. It might mean no sleep at all, if the snow eased off. But somehow Irvine didn't think he could sleep anyway, knowing Squall was denying himself the same pleasure. So they stood together at the cave mouth while the others wrapped themselves in coats and skins the moomba gave them, and got what rest they could.

The snow showed no signs of stopping. It just got thicker, and the wind harsher, and the air colder, until even Squall seemed to have given up hope of the storm blowing over. He uttered no resistance when Laguna and Kiros came to take watch, and let Irvine usher him back to the fire where the others slept.

"Lie down," Irvine whispered.

"It's okay, I-"

"Lie down."

Squall gave Irvine a sullen glare, but he obediently lowered himself down to lie in the space Laguna had just vacated. Irvine snuggled up behind him, dragging the furs around them. Laguna seemed to have been given plenty of them, Irvine noticed. Ever the moomba's favourite. The creature was even joining him and Kiros on watch.

Irvine burrowed through furs and clothing until his hand came to rest against Squall's firm belly. A forming habit, he realised, going to sleep touching him like this. It felt safe, familiar.

Squall reached down to adjust his stiffening cock in his pants, but he didn't brush Irvine's hand away.

Irvine brushed his lips over Squall's ear. "You want I should help you out with that?" he whispered.

There was a pause; very brief, but enough that Irvine knew Squall had at least considered his offer, however fleetingly.

"We're not alone," Squall said.

Irvine ran his tongue over Squall's earlobe, sucked it between his teeth and nibbled. "We'll be quiet as mice. It'll be okay."

"But..."

Irvine's hand ventured lower, closed over the ridge of flesh and squeezed. "Just take the pressure off some. Gods, you're hard."

Squall stifled a moan, and thrust forwards to rub against Irvine's hand. Irvine smiled to himself, kissed Squall's neck and slowly, carefully, unzipped his fly, popped the button and dipped inside. Murmured appreciatively as he freed Squall's cock from pants and underwear, and curled his fingers around it.

"Hyne," Squall breathed. "Oh Hyne..."

"Good, huh?"

"Mmm..."

Irvine shifted a bit so he could reach his own erection with his other hand. Found just enough room to give himself something to thrust against. It had been so long, his balls were so full, full to aching, and he knew it wouldn't take much. The difficult part was stopping himself from stripping Squall naked and nailing him there and then, soft fur on bare skin... he buried his face in Squall's neck to hide a groan.

Squall's hips were rocking now, in a tight, muted version of his usual rhythm, and Irvine's fingers were slick with his precome as they skirted over the head of Squall's cock, barely resisting the urge to take a taste. He started stroking a little harder, thrusting a little harder into his own hand, breath coming short.

There was a rustling noise; they both froze, still as stone, and waited.

Zell began to snore.

For a moment Irvine thought Squall was about to change his mind; he didn't move again at first. Irvine squeezed his cock, long fingers reaching down to tease his balls. Squall buried his face in the furs, and Irvine felt rather than heard the groan that escaped from him, vibrations rippling through every muscle, accompanied by a twitch of his cock in Irvine's hand.

"Faster," Squall whispered, so faint that Irvine barely heard him.

Irvine obediently sped up, his hand flying up and down Squall's shaft. Felt Squall's body start to tense, his belly pulled taut and fluttering, legs straining with the effort of staying almost-still. Irvine listened to his ragged breathing, took his cues from it, stole its rhythm and kept stroking, fast and firm, hand twisting over the head, thumb rubbing the tiny wet slit as he closed his lips over Squall's neck and started to suck.

"Oh fuck, 'vine, fuck," and Squall came in a rush all over Irvine's hand, and again, and again, his body convulsing almost-silently, his own fingers closing over Irvine's to keep it there, wringing out the last few shocks of pleasure.

Irvine licked his fingers lean; licked the bruise on Squall's neck; licked his ear. Tucked Squall's cock carefully back inside his pants and zipped him up. Dug a handkerchief out of his duster pocket and plunged his hand inside his own pants, shoving denim and cotton out of the way and jerked off, fast and expert, emptying himself into the handkerchief in moments, relief so sharp and tight it almost hurt.

He felt his body begin to relax, properly, really relax, muscles easing one by one. Squall smiled at him as he finished cleaning himself up, adjusted his clothing. Twisted around to kiss him, soft and warm, before they settled down again, Irvine's hand on Squall's belly, under his t-shirt, Squall's hand over Irvine's, fingers meshed together.

Irvine burrowed his nose into the fresh, squeaky leather of Squall's duster, and fell into a doze.

"I wish Rin was here."

In an instant, Irvine was wide awake again, his heart thudding as he grappled for something to say. "I'm sorry," was all he could stammer out. _Sorry I'm not her. Sorry I'm not good enough. Sorry I-_

"She could do that trick with a light spell, remember?"

Irvine blinked at Squall's back.

"You know," Squall continued. "Where she cast it on your feet so it stayed real low and couldn't be seen. Much better than a flashlight. Too risky, a flashlight, and it would attract monsters. Hard enough to keep an enclosure up as it is..."

Squall yawned and wriggled his ass into Irvine's groin. "Mmm. You feel," and another yawn, "good."

Irvine tugged Squall closer, his mind racing. "You mean, you miss her magic," he said, at the same time cursing himself for sounding so needy.

"Yeah. Selphie's very good, but for some things you need the extra power of a sorceress."

_The magic. Just the magic._

There was a pause, and Irvine listened to the deepening rhythm of Squall's breath until he began to doze again himself.

"I'd miss you more."

Irvine fell asleep with a smile on his lips, even though he wasn't quite sure if the words had been a dream.


	8. Choice

On the twentieth morning that Irvine woke with Squall, they most definitely weren't alone. Someone was calling his name. Two someones. And it was freezing cold.

Irvine cuddled up closer to Squall's back, buried his nose in his hair and hoped the someones would go away.

"It seems a shame to wake them," came Selphie's voice. "They look so sweet all cuddled up like that."

Irvine thought he might have heard Squall snort into the rolled-up sweater he was using as a pillow.

"Irvine's a bad influence if you ask me," said Quistis. Irvine could just imagine the amused, smug little expression on her face.

There was a sudden and painful prodding in the small of Irvine's back.

"Ow! Go 'way!"

"Come on!" yelled Selphie. "It's nearly dawn and we've got good news!"

Squall stirred, eyes blinking open as he frowned up at their tormentors. "News?"

"Yes!" Quistis' eyes were sparkling, anticipating Squall's approval. "We think we know where Seifer and Cass are headed."

Squall sat up and went straight into interrogative commander mode. "How? Where?"

"The moomba," said Selphie, triumphantly. "He was trying to tell Laguna something last night, but we couldn't work out what it was. Then this morning, when the snow stopped-"

"The snow stopped?" Squall twisted his neck around to see the cave mouth. "Why the fuck didn't you wake me?!"

"Because it was still dark," said Quistis in her calm, matron-voice. "And we needed rest."

Squall opened his mouth to complain, but Selphie got in first.

"If we'd left then we'd never have known, so it was for the best." It was too early in the day for Squall to wrangle with that kind of logic, and while he was still trying to find the words to do so, Selphie ploughed on. "Anyway, he led us outside-"

"Who?"

"The moomba. Come on, Squall, pay attention. He showed us these markings on a stone a bit further up the path."

"What kind of markings?"

"That's the exciting part. It turns out it's a pilgrimage marker. You know, a milestone for people on a religious quest. Hasn't been used for years, the religion died out here not long after Adel-"

"Wait- the moomba told you all this?"

"Oh, heavens, no. It just showed us the stone and nodded a lot, and waved it's arms about some. But Kiros could read the writing, and he'd heard about this cult, from back in the sorceress wars. And he says... this is the exciting part!"

She certainly looked excited. Even Irvine found himself awake and hanging on her every word.

"Yes?"

"This cult, they worship - you'll never guess what they worship. Go on, guess!" She clapped her hands together, clasped them in front of her chest, bouncing lightly on her heels.

Squall glared at her.

"Moombas?" ventured Irvine.

"No, you idiot, sorceresses! More specifically, this GF kind of being that's like a patron saint of sorceresses, called Hyne's Ward. There used to be a temple out on the Mordred Plains, just the other side of this ridge. That must be where Seifer's headed. Has to be!"

She and Quistis watched Squall, waiting for him to bestow his inevitable gratitude and delight.

"It could be a co-incidence," he said, cautiously.

Selphie's face fell a little.

"I don't think so, and neither does Kiros," said Quistis. "We checked on the map, and the route Seifer's taken follows the pilgrim path exactly. There's a lot of other, faster ways he could have got through the mountains, and much better places to hide. This has to be deliberate."

"They must be going there to perform some kind of ritual," said Selphie. "That has to be why they're following the pilgrim path, so that they can summon this GF or whatever it is."

"So we could catch him up," said Quistis. "We don't have any rules, and if they're going to this shrine, Kiros knows exactly where it is. We can get there in just a few hours, straight down the mountain and into the plain. Seifer's route will be about three times as long; even if he carried on through the night we'll get there about the same time as him. Maybe a bit before, if we hurry, or risk the Ragnarok. It's good news. Isn't it, Squall?"

The frown slowly faded from Squall's face, and at last he began to smile.

* * * * * * *

It looked like a whole load of random squiggles to Irvine, but then languages had never been his strong point. Squall seemed to be delighted with the etched milestone, though, and that was good enough for Irvine.

He leaned against a tree, arms folded over his chest, watching from underneath his hat as Squall, Quistis and Kiros huddled around the map, plotting a route to the shrine.

"I don't get it," said Zell, who was busy doing ab crunches, feet locked under a nearby log, apparently oblivious to the snow under his back. "Surely Seifer wouldn't bother with the whole pilgrimage thing? He knows how to draw GF."

"I think it's more than that. Kiros said there were rituals he'd have to perform at specific places along the way, or else he might risk not being able to get into the shrine or find this Ward thingie. That's probably what all those fires were about. Otherwise they could've just," he snapped his fingers, "pouffed there. Probably."

Zell snorted, clearly unconvinced. "That's what you think, huh?"

Irvine shrugged. "It's what Quisty said. Seems likely."

"Oh." Zell paused mid-crunch for a moment. "Well, in that case, yeah. Makes sense when you think about it." And he carried on working his already powerful muscles, barely breaking a sweat.

"I mean, I could've worked it out," said Irvine. "Only she beat me to it."

"Yeah, right."

Irvine let that pass.

"Man, will you just look at that view?" he murmured.

"What?" Zell peered in the general direction of Irvine's gaze. He couldn't see much except snow and early morning fog. "What d'you mean?"

"Squall's ass in those pants," said Irvine. "'Specially when he's bent over that rock like that."

"Oh. Um. Can't say I'd ever noticed." Zell raced through three more crunches and jumped to his feet.

"It's just so tempting. Couldn't you just-"

"No," said Zell, quickly and very firmly. "I really couldn't. And I don't want to think about it, either."

Irvine was amused to see a flush rise to Zell's cheeks. "Sorry. It's been a couple of days and, y'know, a man gets kinda horny."

"No! I really don't!" Zell blushed redder. It had probably been a lot more than a few days for him, Irvine realised. "I don't want to know."

Irvine chuckled. "I guess it's not a good idea to be imagining your commander-"

"Stop right there! I don't want to know. Get it, Kinneas? Keep your perverted little thoughts to yourself, okay? I just... just."

The smile faded from Irvine's face as he took in the vehemence of Zell's words, the discomfort - and something else - in his baby blue eyes.

"Zell..."

But before he could dig deeper Quistis was yelling orders: Laguna and Kiros to go back to base camp; the rest of them to head for the shrine, ready to go in ten minutes, and Zell scampered gratefully back to the cave to get ready.

It's probably nothing, Irvine told himself. The boy's just shy. Maybe even a virgin. Perhaps those rumours about the girl in the library were true.

"Alright?" Squall's hand on his shoulder was perfectly proper and comradely, but he may as well have grabbed Irvine's ass for the effect it had on his body.

"Fine, Commander." He returned Squall's smile, not-so-surreptitiously re-adjusting his pants. Squall gave him a look that made him weak at the knees, and moved on to talk to Laguna.

Irvine pulled his hat back over his eyes, and resumed brooding.

The sooner they got to kick Seifer's ass and go home, the better.

* * * * * * *

At least the mountains had provided some kind of variety. The Mordred Plains were flat and dull at the best of times; covered in an endless, uniform blanket of snow there was nothing to redeem the landscape at all.

He was tempted to ask Squall to drop Diablos' enclosure, just for the novelty of attracting a few monsters to kill. But he didn't think Squall would buy it, somehow. Not when he was in serious commander-mode.

So he was relieved, to say the least, when Quistis consulted the map, then her compass, and finally pointed at something brownish in the distance and said: "it's over there."

Squall shielded his eyes from the midday sun and squinted in the direction Quistis indicated.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Quistis.

"It's not as if it's competing with much else," said Irvine.

"And it's exactly on the co-ordinates Kiros gave us," said Quistis. "More to the point."

"Okay then. Check your junctions."

Irvine went through his usual routine; Quezacotl and Siren hummed to him, power balanced neatly for attack, defence and a little something in reserve in case of surprises. All as it should be.

A few minutes later they found themselves standing in front of an old, derelict-looking shack, dusted with snow.

"It doesn't look very shriney," said Selphie. She sounded quite disappointed.

"It's in the right place," said Squall. "That'll do for me. Irvine, Selphie, you're with me. Quistis, Zell, I want you to wait out here in case Seifer turns up."

"He must be." Zell pointed at the unblemished snow. "No tracks."

"Different entrance. The pilgrim path ended in some caves about ten miles north or here, so if we're right about him having to follow the rules, he won't come this way."

"But Seifer isn't a great one for rules."

"Exactly. He might just get bored and change the plan."

"We'll cover your back," said Zell. "Won't we, Quisty?"

"Of course. Be careful, Squall." Quistis gave Squall's shoulder a little squeeze. "And be safe."

Squall murmured something to her Irvine didn't quite catch, and led him and Selphie into the shack.

It wasn't any less of a shack on the inside. Irvine had harboured hopes of some kind of elaborate marble staircase or something, or at the very least a mystic portal. But it was just what it looked like on the outside: a run-down shack, full of old barrels and rotting sacks.

"Over there," said Squall, pointing to one dark, shadowy corner of the room.

"What?" Irvine couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary; in fact it was so dark he couldn't really see anything much at all.

"It's magic," said Selphie. "Look."

He still couldn't see anything at first, but just when he was starting to think they were either mad or winding him up, his eyes caught a flicker of light, tiny at first, then brighter, shimmering along the seam where the rickety walls met, the dirty grey and brown wood suddenly rich gold and silver, melting into light almost too bright to look at.

"Wow," said Selphie. "Cool."

Irvine could only agree. A doorway was forming, and the light softened enough that Irvine could make out the hint of a room beyond.

"Yep. That's magic alright," said Squall. "Come on."

Irvine and Selphie followed him through the narrow portal. It was bright after the gloom of the shack and took Irvine a few moments to adjust his eyes. They were in a huge, stone-walled chamber with a marble floor and a high domed ceiling spined with gilt arches and decorated with paintings of dragons, power and magic. Tiny sparkles of twinkling dust shone in streams of light that shafted through the room at impossible angles from non-existent sources, as if there were a hundred windows in the ceiling, and the sun was shining through all of them at once.

"Selphie, do some scans," said Squall. "Keep your eyes open, both of you."

"On it!" Selphie began to sparkle with magic as she cast her first spell. Irvine wandered vaguely towards the centre of the room, dutifully looking for something, although he had no idea what. As usual his eyes picked out details: a bright blue ribbon in one of the ceiling paintings; the intricate knot pattern outlining a circular paving stone; a book in the bookcase titled_ 'Sniper and the Empath'. _

He ran his finger down the spine and pulled the book out to give it a closer look as Squall peered up at the ceiling and said, "I think this is about Hyne. Or maybe the making of the first sorceress... I'm not sure."

"Woah!" yelled Selphie, suddenly. "I've got something, I don't know what-"

And then Irvine disappeared.

* * * * * * *

Squall glared thunder at the horribly empty spot where Irvine had been, and the book thudded to the ground.

"Irvy!" squealed Selphie. "Where'd he go?"

Squall bit down the urge to yell at her. "Teleportation," he growled. Trust Irvine to stand in the middle of the big target-shaped spot on the floor and do... something.

Squall gingerly stepped over the patterned circle, and picked up the book that lay there. Nothing happened. He popped the book into his pocket and checked out the other titles on the shelf: they were mostly myths and legends, particularly involving sorceresses, GFs and... "Gods!"

"What? What did you find?" Selphie was instantly at his side, apparently also oblivious to any danger.

"Look."

Selphie followed his pointing finger. "_'The Lion who Saved Time.'_ Woohoo! That must be you! You're famous, Squall, they wrote a book about you!"

Squall scowled. "Don't like it," he muttered. "Sinister."

"It doesn't explain where Irvy went, though. Unless he's in the book! I heard that happened once somewhere. All these people were sucked into this book and had to live out these characters' lives, and-"

"Well, that's not what happened to Irvine," said Squall. "I recognised the spell. Someone teleported him somewhere."

"Oh. Cass, you think?"

"We know she can do it."

"Shit."

"Yes. Exactly. We'd better take a look outside."

"Er... actually, that could be tricky."

"What? Why?"

Selphie was pointing over his shoulder, apprehension all over her face.

"Looks like she teleported the door, as well."

Squall stared in disbelief at the smooth, butter-coloured plastered wall that was where the portal had been, looking old and worn and as if it had been there all along.

* * * * * * *

The screaming in Irvine's head finally stopped, and he found himself on his knees on hard tiles, indoors but the air had a bitter sting of cold to it. He caught his breath and looked up.

He wasn't really surprised to see Seifer.

"Give me the gun."

Irvine considered his options: his junctions had gone, no magic, and if he took a pot shot Seifer would probably kill him, or at the very least knock him out again. This one was going to take some thinking.

"What did you do?" He reluctantly handed over Exeter, running his fingers apologetically over the stock before Seifer snatched it away. "Where's Squall and Selphie?"

"Right where you left them, I expect."

"You're junctioned." Irvine could all but see the magical strength running through him, and Hyperion glowed electric blue. He felt suddenly very human and vulnerable.

"Looks that way. So don't plan anything rash, there's a good boy."

"Where the fuck did you get a GF from?"

Seifer shrugged. "The usual. Went on a hunting expedition to Centra, and found a little friend in an old abandoned mine there. Decided to hang onto it for a while."

Irvine shook the confusion out of his head and started to take in his surroundings. It was like a crypt: high, vaulted ceiling, rough brick walls, no windows. In an alcove to his left was a stone slab, with someone resting on it.

Cass. And beside her Odine, surrounded by pots and jars and bits of equipment, stirring something in a beaker and muttering to himself, apparently oblivious to Irvine's sudden arrival.

Cass looked deathly pale, and she wasn't moving. "Is she sick? You bastard, what've you done to her?!"

"She's resting," said Seifer. "I'm sure she'll appreciate your concern. You're so attentive to your exes, aren't you?"

"What have you done?" Irvine repeated.

"Quite the heartbreaker, aren't you?"

"That's nothing to do with you. Or this."

"I bet Leonhart would have a passing interest."

"Why the Hell would he care?"

Seifer just looked at him, letting the silence speak for itself.

How did he.... Irvine's eyes drifted to where Cass lay, still and pale, oblivious.

"She has lucid moments," said Seifer. "And she likes to talk, then. Says she likes having someone to listen to her for a change."

It wasn't as if Irvine had ever wanted his relationship with Squall to be secret. But there was something about Seifer knowing that felt flesh-crawlingly dangerous.

"It won't come as a surprise to Squall that you fucked her, I don't suppose," Seifer continued. "We all know your reputation, after all."

He came a few steps closer, so Irvine could see the ice blue of his eyes, the mocking quirk of his mouth.

"Oh, don't worry, Sniper," he crooned venomously. "I'm not going to shatter his illusions. I'm sure you'll do that all by yourself, eventually. It's just nice to know he cares. Makes you all... valuable."

A hostage. That made sense. Damn.

Across the room, Odine cackled delightedly.

"Tell me, Sniper." Seifer circled him, looking him up and down, trailing Hyperion's tip ear-squealingly across the floor. "Is he still a demon in the sack?"

Irvine lunged at him, but Seifer blocked him easily, caught his arm and bent it painfully behind his back.

"Did he tell you I got there first?"

Irvine struggled hard, only stopping when it occurred to him it might be hard to beat Seifer into a bloody pulp if his arm was broken.

Seifer laughed. "Did he tell you how I used to fuck him in the library after hours? Bent over a desk like a whore? Or how he cried like a baby the day I left him?"

"Relief, I expect," Irvine spat out through gritted teeth.

"Aw, poor cowboy's jealous!"

Seifer let him go, shoving him away so he had to fight for his balance.

"You frightened I'm gonna come back and steal him away from you after all this time?"

"Just try it, Almasy."

Seifer's ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly, the smile fading from his face. "He didn't tell you everything, did he? To be expected, I suppose. So out of touch with his feelings, our Squally-boy."

"Fuck you." Irvine looked away, determined not to let Seifer see the doubt that crawled all over him, making his flesh creep and his guts lurch at the thought that maybe Squall had lied. Maybe he had cared for Seifer after all. He racked his brains, trying desperately to remember if Squall had ever even denied it... A vision of Squall wet and shivering in the show flooded his memory. He'd said it had just been about the sex, that he hadn't cared. Hadn't he?

Hadn't he?

"She's awake!" Odine snapped both men's attention back to Cass. She sat up, blinked at them, and for a split second Irvine saw the old, familiar Cass, ordinary, untainted with magic.

"Irvine?" Terror closed in on her and Irvine started towards her without thinking, but Seifer's hand clamped down on his arm and held him back.

"He's here to help us, Sorceress," said Seifer.

"Help?" she said weakly. Somewhere between and echo and a plea.

"If I can," said Irvine, straining in Seifer's grasp.

Cass yelped as if she'd been slapped; Irvine could see the magic growing in her, too fast, crackling and fizzing in electric flashes around her. She screamed and fell back to the bed. Seifer shoved Irvine out of the way and rushed to her side, checked for pulse and breath from her unconscious form. Let out a long sigh that Irvine took as evidence she was still alive. Seifer turned on Odine, snatching the little man by the throat and raising him off the ground until his limbs flailed and he gasped for air.

"What went wrong this time, you moron?!"

Odine squeaked, Seifer's fingers too tight to allow words to escape. Irvine made a dash for his rifle, but he was no match for Seifer's GF-heightened reflexes. He flung a spell at Irvine without so much as taking his eyes off Odine. "Stay where you are, Kinneas!"

And Irvine found himself forced to do just that; his limbs were set in stone, and it was all he could do to draw shallow, painful breaths.

He watched as Seifer let Odine down, drew the tip of his gunblade to his heart. Barely able to make out any sound through the muffle of the spell Seifer had cast on him, he could imagine what he was saying.

Anger surged through Irvine; all he could think of was Squall, and Seifer, and whether or not...

He had to stop. Had to think of something else, anything, because raging at Seifer wouldn't help him, or Cass. He had to find a way to turn the tables.

Preferable through the use of extreme and gratuitous violence.

The spell wore off all at once, sending Irvine crashing to his knees as feeling returned to his limbs, every nerve ending tingling as life flooded through numb, twitching muscles.

"Make it work," Seifer was saying. "No more excuses, no more failures. We don't have any more time to waste."

Odine was scuttling about on the floor, muttering calculations and rearranging equipment; apparently ignoring Seifer completely.

"Things not going your way, Almasy?" said Irvine, as soon as he found the breath to speak.

Seifer glared at him. "You shouldn't sound so smug, Kinneas. If this little shit can't get his act together, she'll die."

Irvine let that sink in for a moment as he struggled to his feet. "Let me help, then."

Seifer snorted derisively. "You seriously think I'd fall for that one?"

"Can you take the chance?"

"And what the fuck do you think you could do?"

"I don't know. Depends what the problem is. But Cass is my friend. I won't let her die."

"More than a friend." There was a flash of jealousy in Seifer's eyes that Irvine rather enjoyed.

"That's in the past."

Seifer's derision had faded somewhat; he cast a glance at Cass. Suddenly uncertain.

"Look at it this way," Irvine said. "I boned your sorceress, you boned by boyfriend. Let's call it quits, eh? Or do you really want her to die while we stand here having some kind of pissing contest?"

Seifer gave a snort of frustration and stalked over to Cass; he stroked her face back from her hair, and his shoulders slumped. "The power's too much for her," he said eventually. "It overwhelms her, makes her sick. Makes her... change."

"Change? What, into a monster, or-"

"No, you moron, I mean... like Her."

Irvine's stomach dropped. "Ultimecia?"

"It's getting worse. If Odine can't fix it..."

"Have faith, and patience!" Odine exclaimed, his hands flying over the keyboard of a small computer he'd produced from Hyne knew where. "You can't rush science!"

Seifer roared at Odine, raised a hand to strike him, stopping himself at the last minute to punch the wall instead. "We're running out of time, can't you see that?"

"Oh, yeah, the ritual," said Irvine, carefully. "What was that about again?"

"Magic," said Seifer. "It'll help-"

"The bonding ceremony!" Odine interrupted cheerfully. "I, Odine, rediscovered this ancient rite, a matter of course for sorceresses of old, a joining of sorceress and Knight where power is shared and loyalty pledged for all time!"

Irvine couldn't help but laugh. "Now I understand. Oh yeah. I can see how that would work out really well for you, Almasy. With the power sharing and all. Very selfless."

This time Seifer's fist met with Irvine's jaw; pain seared through his skull. "You know fuck all about anything, Kinneas! Shut the fuck up and stay still or I swear I'll..."

"Yeah, yeah." Irvine massaged his throbbing jaw. "Whatever."

"I'm not the one who goes around taking advantage of any screwed-up little tart I come across. This is... all I want is..."

Power, thought Irvine. That's all he ever wanted, really.

While Seifer was struggling to finish his sentence there was a rustling sound from behind them and a shriek from Odine; Cass was rising again, and this time there was no fear, no pleading, no screaming. No humanity. Just dark, cold eyes fixing on Odine with nothing short of contempt; one slender arm lifting, pointing at the terrified little man.

"No!" Seifer and Irvine yelled, in unison.

Distracted, she turned her attention to them, magic fizzing to nothing down her arm. Her fingers twitched, as if it hurt to have the power returned in such a way.

Energy crackled around her, blue and fierce, seething and writhing under her skin. There was nothing of Rinoa's quiet strength, or Ultimecia's tight control, or Adel's cruelty. Cass had no focus, none of the clarity of purpose Irvine had seen in other sorceresses. Her magic was a wild, untamed thing, and at the same time more powerful than anything he'd ever known.

All of a sudden, Odine lunged at her, and before either Irvine or Seifer could stop him he'd latched onto her ankle, screaming as pure energy shot through him. There was a cloud of smoke and stars, and when it cleared Odine was on his knees, whimpering, and Cass was Cass again. Crying, trembling; Seifer and Irvine both rushed towards her, but Seifer got there first.

"What have you done?" Seifer spat at Odine, pulling Cass into his arms.

"Bangle," panted Odine. The tips of his wild, wiry hair were singed. "Power limiter."

Irvine noticed it then, on her ankle, a band of gold run through with pulsing veins of magic.

"Odine brand," said Odine, triumphantly, then fell onto his back and passed out.

"It's so heavy," Cass whispered. "It hurts."

"It's just for a little while," said Seifer. "Until we can perform the ritual. Okay?"

She didn't answer him; Irvine's guess was that she hadn't even heard him.

"Come on." Seifer guided her towards the middle of the room, casting Irvine a warning glance on the way. Irvine shrugged, stepped back, a plan half-forming in his mind. Six steps to his rifle, a moment to aim...

Seifer was chanting, tossing some kind of powder over both their heads; it didn't fall but stayed in the air, twinkling stardust.

Just six steps, just waiting for the right moment... Seifer had closed his eyes, that's it, now-

Then the wall behind Seifer came crashing down, and there was Squall.

* * * * * * *

Afterwards, Irvine harboured some regret that he hadn't had the chance to take that shot. Not least because it had been such a perfect excuse to do Seifer some serious damage, even if the bullet's power would have been sorely diminished without a GF on his side.

But at the time, all he felt was relief.

Squall stood on a mound of rubble in the clearing dust, coat swishing around his legs, Selphie at his side, and Irvine caught a glimpse of gilt and golden light behind them. He must have been next door all this time.

Seifer flung an arm out angrily in Squall's direction, shooting a column of flame from his fingertips, but Squall deflected it with the merest gesture of his hand, and it fell harmlessly to ashes at his feet.

Sometimes Irvine forgot how powerful Squall had become. So, judging by the look on his face, had Seifer.

"Cass?" said Squall.

She'd slumped to the floor, face buried in her hands, silent although her shoulders heaved with massive sobs. The band around her ankle was glowing brightly.

"He's put some kind of power limiter on her," said Irvine. "It's-"

There was a shower of blue sparks, and suddenly he couldn't make a sound. Fuck. A simple silence spell. It had been a long time since Irvine had been so vulnerable to such common magic.

On the other hand, silence was no enemy to a sniper. A smile twitched at the corner of Irvine's mouth; he exchanged the barest glance with Squall, and took a half-step backwards.

"Don't do this," Squall said to Seifer, his voice soft, carrying more compassion than Irvine really thought was warranted. "It's not too late."

"But it is," the apparently recovered Odine interjected. "If you rush the experiment the results will be inconclusive! Disaster! Disaster!" He waved his arms about dramatically.

"What the fuck is he on?" Seifer muttered.

Irvine took another silent step backwards.

Seifer let out an exasperated sigh, and ignored Odine, turning his back on him. "If you try and stop me," he said to Squall, "I'll kill your boyfriend in an instant."

"And then I'll kill you," said Squall, calmly. "So what's the point?"

Another step.

Seifer laughed. "I'd like to see you try."

And another, to the right this time. Another.

"Let's do it." Squall drew Lionheart in a flash of blue light and stood ready. "Never mind hostages, Almasy. You and me, here, now. Let's settle this once and for all."

Almost there.

"Sorry, Squally-boy. You'll have to wait. I have an appointment."

Seifer tugged Cass to her feet, clasped her hand and punched the air with their joined fists.

_~Bind!~_

Exeter leapt into his hands; Irvine dove, rolled and took the shot; his bullet passed clean through Seifer's shoulder, blood spurting for a moment before the healing magic flowed over him.

But it was enough.

Seifer dropped her hand and turned on Irvine, and when the ceiling opened and the light poured in, it was only Cass it fell on.

* * * * * * *

They all watched transfixed as Cass was engulfed in vivid blue streams of energy. Seifer froze, Irvine forgotten, and wailed as the anklet shattered to dust. She wasn't crying any more. She raised her face to the sky with a smile, both arms outstretched as she wallowed in more power than any human being should be able to stand.

"Shit," said Selphie.

Irvine could only agree.

"Cass? Are you okay?" Seifer looked wretched - not surprisingly, thought Irvine, seeing as he'd just missed out on all that blue sparkly goodness.

"Cass?" said Squall.

If Cass heard them she made no sign of it; the flow of magic had stopped and she was intent on a shimmering shape that was forming in front of her, flickering into an unmistakably female figure.

It spoke in a deep, rich voice, reverberating through the chamber. "Who brings this child of Hyne to The Ward?"

"Me," said Seifer. "Your humble servant."

"I see. And is this your Knight, child?"

"I d..don't know," said Cass. She didn't seem afraid; somewhat overwhelmed, maybe, but there was none of the terror she'd shown before.

"Cass!" Seifer howled. "You do know! It's me, remember, we agreed..."

"I'm sorry," said Cass, not unkindly. "I know what we said, but now it's time... I'm just not sure. I'm sorry."

"You are new to the magic," said the Ward. "You invoked my power to bind you to the world. The choice is yours."

"But..."

"You don't have to choose Seifer," said Squall. "I'll serve, if you want."

"Or Irvine," said Selphie.

Irvine reeled, from a stab of jealousy on the one hand that Squall would offer himself so freely, and at the notion that he could be someone's Knight himself on the other. He tried to catch Squall's eye, but his gaze was fixed resolutely on Cass.

"Please!" Seifer dropped to one knee, bowed his head. "Do me the honour, Sorceress. I will serve faithfully, to the end of time itself. Please."

"Oh, have some dignity, man," Irvine muttered under his breath - audibly, he realised. The silence spell must have worn off.

"I'm the only one who really cares," said Seifer. "I promise, I'll-"

"You can't trust him!" said Irvine. He took a deep breath, decision made. "I'll do it. You've known me for years, we're friends, even if things did, um... I know I haven't always been very... but if you'll have me I-"

"Irvine!" Squall glowered at him. "You have no idea what you're doing! Being a knight isn't something you can just promise on a whim! It's a lifetime commitment! You're offering to be tied to her forever, to follow her everywhere, you're giving her a power over you like you don't understand. You can't possibly-"

"Better me than him," said Irvine.

"I'll do it," said Squall, exasperated. He turned to Cass. "I'll be your Knight, Sorceress. I can help you. I know what it is to be a Knight and-"

"You've already got a fucking Sorceress, Leonhart!" Seifer yelled. "How come you get another one?!" And then to Cass, "take no notice, Cass. The Cowboy's a faithless jerk and the so-called Lion of Balamb is an emotional retard who can barely cope with the Sorceress he's already got. I'm ready for this. I'm ready for you. I promise."

Cass looked wretchedly from one to the other of them, more uncertain with every passing moment. Finally she turned to The Ward. "It was a mistake," she said, voice shaking. "All of it. This shouldn't have happened to me. It's his fault," she waved a hand vaguely towards the niche where Odine was hiding under the slab, "and the binding... they said it would stop it hurting. I don't want to be a sorceress. I don't want a Knight. I just want the power to go away!" Tears spilled down her cheeks; for all the magic crackling around her she looked as vulnerable as a child. Irvine felt a sharp pang of guilt; if he hadn't neglected her, if he had been a better friend, if, if, if...

Seifer started towards her, but The Ward shot him a look so terrible he froze in mid step. Then she turned a kinder face on Cass.

"It is your birthright, child. You have always been a daughter of Hyne. Whether you came to fullness through inheritance or interference matters not."

"But it hurt! It would have killed me."

"No. Your magic is raw and new, is all. A new power is a rare and miraculous thing. You shall tame it and make it yours, and in time you will pass it to another."

"I will?" she raised her head uncertainly, still trembling.

"You will." The Ward nodded, once.

"Then..." Cass looked again at Squall, and Irvine, and lastly and for longest at Seifer. "Can I do it alone?"

"It's too dangerous," said Squall. "If you lose control, innocent people could be hurt."

"Is that true?" said Cass.

"Yes," said The Ward.

"But I could do it? I don't have to have a Knight if I don't want one?"

"It is as you wish, child."

Cass raked her fingers through her hair, apparently unaware of the magic that crackled around her skull as a result. "I don't want to end up like Adel, or... but..."

"Then choose," begged Seifer. "I'll protect you. Please."

"Shut your mouth, Almasy," said Irvine, "or I'll shut it for you."

"Leave him alone," hissed Squall. "It's her choice."

Irvine was silenced more by the stab of betrayal at Squall defending Seifer than by his argument.

"I'm sorry, Seif," said Cass. "Sorry, Irvy."

Irvine tried not to feel rejected. It wasn't as if he'd ever wanted to be a Knight, anyway. Seifer turned away, his reaction hidden although Irvine noticed a shake to his shoulders. Irvine allowed himself a smug little smile.

"Squall. Can you help me?"

Squall nodded, and in his best Commander voice, said: "As you wish."

"No," Cass smiled. "Not as my Knight. I mean, if I choose to do this on my own, will you help me? Make sure I don't get dangerous, and if I do..." - a flash of fear crossed her face - "will you stop me?"

Irvine could feel Squall's relief as if it were his own.

Perhaps it was.

"Of course," said Squall. "You have my word."

Cass turned back to The Ward. "I choose to have no Knight," she said.

"Woohoo!" said Selphie, with a triumphant bounce. "You go, girl!"

Squall gave her a disapproving glare, but she ignored him.

The Ward hooked a hand around the back of Cass' skull, and for one horrible moment Irvine thought it was all a mistake and she was about to do Cass some dreadful harm. But Cass was smiling, and the smile grew and grew as the two of them were shrouded in blue and pink light.

Then there was a flash, and darkness.

* * * * * * *

Squall blinked. The sun was painfully bright, low in the sky but sending fierce, white-gold spears of light across the scrubby ground.

"Irvine?"

"Present." Irvine adjusted his hat to shield his eyes - or perhaps his expression, Squall wasn't sure which. Something wasn't right between them all of a sudden, and it shocked him to realise it.

"We all seem to be in one piece," said Selphie. She helped a dazed-looking Cass to her feet. "You okay?"

"Yes, thanks I'm-" said Cass, and promptly passed out. Selphie caught her neatly, and quickly checked her vital signs.

"She's okay. Just the shock. I'll give her a remedy; we need to get back to Esthar and have her checked out."

"Are you sure she's okay?" Irvine took Cass' hand, clasped it between both of his and peered anxiously at her sleeping face.

"Power reduction!" said Odine. He was waving some kind of instrument at Cass; its twin antennae glowed at the tips. "Magic reduced by forty one point two per cent across the spectrum. Within normal paramagical parameters to correlate with her physiological limitations." He sighed. "Such a waste."

"You could have killed her!" yelled Irvine. "You stupid little-"

"Leave it, Irvine," said Squall, but too late. Odine had bolted, disappearing with remarkable speed into the scant undergrowth. "Oh, great."

"So we lost the mad scientist," said Irvine. "With a bit of luck he'll get eaten by something."

"He knows more about paramagic than anyone in the whole world. We can't afford to lose him." Squall felt tired and exasperated, and he knew that Kiros wouldn't be best pleased to find out that Odine was still at large. He was about to start after him when he felt Selphie's hand firm on his arm.

"He'll come home when he's hungry," she said. "Or we can go find him later. Right now we need to get Cass somewhere comfy."

Much as he hated it, he knew she was right.

"What about the other jerk?" Irvine nodded towards Seifer, who sat a little way off, showing no signs of trying to escape. His was hugging his knees to his chest, head bowed, fingers clasped in his dirty blond hair.

"Leave him to me. Selphie, call Quistis, get some transport here. Irvine... just stay out of trouble."

Irvine watched as Squall took the dozen steps to where Seifer sat and slipped a gentle arm around his trembling shoulders.

Then he buried his face in Cass' neck, so he didn't have to watch at all.

* * * * * * *

The Ragnarok arrived in less than an hour, and the journey back to Esthar was brief and uneventful. Cass slept most of the way cuddled into the crook of Irvine's arm while Squall and Seifer sat a few rows back and spoke in hushed tones. Irvine held the new sorceress close and battled with a knot of jealousy so tight it took all his energy to stay in his seat.

It was starting to make sense, at least. He knew now why he'd never been the jealous kind.

He'd simply never cared enough to be jealous before.

He cared now. And it hurt, twisting in his guts as sure as if Seifer had Hyperion writhing there. It hurt that Squall should care enough to let Almasy live, never mind be so nice to him. There was no logical motive for that, as far as Irvine could see. The man was dangerous and had broken most all of the conditions of his agreement with Cid and Edea after Ultimecia. He didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve Squall.

Had never deserved Squall.

What if...

Cass stirred a little, stretched and arm across Irvine's chest and twined a strand of his hair around her fingers. It was oddly comforting and familiar, and at the same time it felt all wrong.

When they arrived there were med teams waiting to rush Cass away for tests and observation and Hyne-knew what else, and security teams to fetch Seifer. He went without so much as a surly glance.

For a moment Irvine and Squall found themselves standing side by side; but it was all Irvine could do to look at him, and when he did he saw his own uncertainty mirrored a hundred times over, and with it a cold anger that shocked him to the core.

What the fuck had _he_ done?

Then Kiros arrived and bundled Squall off for debriefing, and Irvine found himself left standing in the plaza outside the Presidential Palace, tired and hungry and without a clue what to do next.

"Cheer up, Cowboy." Selphie hooked her arm through his and gave him a bright smile. "They'll probably let him go in a day or two."

Irvine somehow managed to return her smile, and gave a little whine. "A day?" He summoned his most pathetic look. "I'll die!"

Selphie laughed, and gave his butt a playful smack, apparently fooled. "Meanwhile, you want to get something to eat? Me and Quisty were thinking of trying that new place in the mall."

"Nah," said Irvine. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I need a long bath. Work the kinks out." He rolled his shoulder, which gave a resounding crack as if to prove his point.

"So long as you stay just a little bit kinky," said Selphie. "I'm sure Squall wouldn't want you to lose them all." She winked, and it was so, so easy to wink back and grin and pretend there was nothing wrong. So easy that it felt like betrayal.

"I'll see you later." He gave her a hug, and strode into the palace with a brief wave at Quistis, who was on her way out.

"That's that one done and dusted then," Quistis said to Selphie, with some satisfaction. "Zell's got permission to call home so he said we should go on without him. I'll just need a shower, then we can go. Is Irvine coming?"

"No," said Selphie, still watching the revolving door that Irvine had just passed through.

"What's up?"

"I don't know," said Selphie, with a frown. "But there's something wrong."

Quistis gave a deep sigh. "Boy stuff?"

"Probably. That was one hell of an atmosphere on the Rag. I thought Irvine was going to deck Seifer the minute we landed."

"And Squall..."

"Well, yeah. Squall. I haven't seen his 'whatever' face for a long time."

"Because Irvine's jealous?"

"I'm not sure. I think there's something else there, but Hyne knows what. Could be anything, knowing Squall. All I know is they're both as stubborn and growly as bears, and there'll be no peace 'til they sort it out."

"Ah well." Quistis gave her friend a quick hug. "I suppose it was too much to hope that everyone could congratulate themselves on a job well done and revel in our shared accomplishment of saving the world from disaster. That would be too simple for the male gene to cope with, eh?"

Selphie giggled. "I guess. Come on, let's get going. I'm starving. And I think I might be about to have a good idea..."

* * * * * * *

It was easy to slip from meeting to meeting, from hand shake to hand shake, without having to think about anything. Squall barely noticed how angry he felt - how _anything_ he felt - until he found himself alone in the corridor that led to his room. The last meeting done.

He stopped just outside the door. Wondered if Irvine would be there, or if he was still with Cass. Or off doing something hopelessly irresponsible. Or in danger. Or...

Squall turned and strode away from his room, heading for his office at the other end of the palace. A muscle twitched in his cheek; his fists were clenched at his sides. He shoved down the panic and fear that had returned to him at intervals ever since the moment when Irvine vanished.

This is what it would be like, he told himself. If he didn't stop it now, this is what it would always be like. Irvine was Irvine. Guns and women. There would always be Selphies and Tanyas and Casses around the corner.

And one day, Irvine would leave, and Squall's name would be added to the list for his next conquest to torture themselves over.

May as well get it over with then, Squall told himself. Why wait? Why wait when he was falling more in love with the man every day, when it would hurt more and more to lose him? Why-

"Excuse me, Sir?"

He came to a halt, and blinked at the girl in front of him. One of Laguna's assistants, out of breath and looking a little scared.

"Yes?"

"Message for you, Sir, from the President. He wants you to go here," she passed him a slip of paper with something written on it in Laguna's untidy scrawl, "and wait for him as instructed."

Squall frowned. He was certain Laguna had told him he was having an early night.

"He said it's about Dr Odine, Sir, and that you should hurry."

"Okay. Thanks. I'm on my way."

She saluted smartly and rushed off, obviously keen to escape his presence.

Squall sighed, and stuffed the piece of paper in his coat pocket. The lining felt soft and familiar; funny how fast he'd got used to the new duster. Leather usually took forever to wear in, but this just... fit.

It was no good thinking like that. No good thinking at all. Relieved for the distraction of another worldly crisis, Squall shoved his own cares away and set out into the cold Esthar night.

* * * * * * *

Irvine leaned against one plush wall in the back room of the Torama, and tried not to bring to mind the memory of a naked and wanton Squall lying on the futon. He didn't want to bring Squall to mind at all. He'd spent most of the time since they'd got back trying not to think about Squall, but actually he'd done nothing but, emotions swinging from guilt to jealousy and back again so fast it made his head spin.

He wished Selphie would hurry up and get here to talk about whatever problem it was she had. It was about the only thing that he could imagine might take his mind off his own.

So when the door swooshed open and Squall stepped into the room, his heart didn't just sink. It plummeted to his boots faster than a G-prison elevator, leaving him dizzy and sick and stupidly speechless.

"What're you doing here?" said Squall bluntly.

Irvine bristled; he couldn't remember them actually having the row he'd imagined a hundred times over in the past few hours, and yet Squall was behaving as if they had, and worse.

"Hey," said Irvine. "I'm meeting Selphie. You?"

Squall's brows shot up. "Selphie?"

"Yeah. And you?"

"Laguna. Something about Odine."

"Oh. Well, as soon as Seffie gets here we'll shoot out of your way."

"Right."

Squall leaned rather awkwardly against the closed door, and folded his arms over his chest.

Irvine searched desperately for something to say, but he couldn't think of anything. He'd rehearsed a hundred lines, but none of them fit. He wanted to take Squall in his arms and hold him; he wanted to pin him against the wall and demand to know what had happened between him and Seifer; he wanted to fall at his feet and grovel.

He did none of these things, but the sheer effort of stopping himself meant he didn't do anything else, either.

The silence grew between them, thicker and more awkward by the second.

In the end, Squall broke first. "Where the fuck is he?" he muttered. "He should be here by now."

"Yeah. Seffie too. What did you say Laguna wanted to see you about?"

"Something to do with Odine. Look, I'll just go and, um, wait outside. In case he goes the wrong way or something. Okay?"

Irvine nodded; Squall turned and swiped his card through the exit panel.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

He typed in the Esthar security override code.

It gave a single, desultory beep, and then...nothing.

"What the fuck?"

Somewhere in the confusion of Irvine's mind, suspicions began to form. "Who told you to meet Laguna here?"

"His Assistant. Gave me this note, in his handwriting and everything."

"And Selphie sent a message to me, too. In her handwriting and everything."

"So?"

"I think we've been set up."

"What? Some kind of conspiracy, you mean?"

"No. Well, yes, but not the political, danger-to-the world kind. The Selphie and Laguna kind."

"What?"

"Remember the last time we were locked in a room together?"

Squall did. He remembered being pissed off, horny and scared. In roughly that order. Then horny again. And then... "Oh."

"I wouldn't rate our chances on getting out of here for a while," said Irvine.

Squall said nothing, just stared at the floor.

"It's my fault," said Irvine. "She must have thought there was something up." Willing Squall to say she was wrong, of course there wasn't, it was all fine and by the way he'd just exiled Seifer to the Island Closest to Hell forever without a GF or a weapon of any kind.

"I guess she's right," said Squall. Still staring at the floor, weight on one hip, hair falling in his eyes.

"Yeah," said Irvine, his voice cracking. "I guess."

"It's none of their business."

"No. They mean well, but... no."

Another silence.

"Squall... I..."

Squall's eyes met his, miserable and strong and cold and Irvine couldn't bear it.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I..." Squall tried, but he couldn't find the words. He slumped back against the door. "I don't know." He sucked in a deep breath, wrenched his eyes away again. "I think maybe it's over."

It hit Irvine harder than a wendigo attack. An actual, physical pain, deep inside, where things were soft and tender and didn't always heal right.

"I love you," was all he could say. All he could think, or feel.

"For now," said Squall, his voice barely audible.

"For now? What d'you mean, for now?"

"It won't last, will it? It never does, for you. Seeing you with Cass today... I know you don't mean to hurt anyone, you're trying to do the right thing, and sure, you love me now, but... you loved her once. And Tanya. And Selphie. And... however many others there are. Thing is, I don't think I can take it again."

"You think I'm going to leave you," said Irvine, shocked to the core. "Like Seifer."

"No, not like Seifer, but... what d'you mean, like Seifer?"

"He said... things. About the two of you. About you. About your feelings for him."

"I had no feelings for him." Squall scowled. "I didn't have feelings in those days, remember?"

"But-"

"I understand Seifer. He's not that complicated when you get to know him. But I've never loved him."

"Then what d'you mean, you can't take it again?"

"I was thinking more... Rinoa."

"Oh."

"You see, it's different for you. You're used to all this. I'm not. I think I hurt easy. That's why I shut people out. It's so much easier that way. And every time I let anyone in..."

Irvine felt something wet on his cheek, realised he was crying. "You want to leave me because it's going to hurt you when I leave you," he said, flatly.

Squall ran that through his mind. "Yeah. That's about it."

"And you think I'm going to hurt you because-"

"Because you are... who you are. I can't change you. Love means something different to you is all and-"

Irvine crossed the space between them in three strides, took Squall by the shoulders and shook him, hard, forcing him to look him in the eyes, tears and all.

"You want to know what love means to me? Really? I'll tell you exactly what love means. Love is something strong and rare, that pumps through your veins like life. Love is blood and tears. What I felt for Selphie or any of them wasn't love. It was nothing. It blew away like sand and when it was gone I barely missed it. Love is... love is standing here like a fool and hating Seifer and wanting you more than anything I've ever wanted in my whole fucking life. Love is..."

Squall lifted a shaking hand to Irvine's chest, put a finger to his lips. "Blood," he said. "Life. Yes. That's how I feel about you." A sense of wonder about him, as if he'd never thought such a moment possible. And wariness, still, that he was being lured into some kind of trap.

"And Seifer?" Irvine hated himself, but asked anyway.

"Sand," said Squall. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. "You moron."

Irvine heard himself laugh, and then the breath oomphed out of him as Squall clutched him tight, fists pressing into his back. Irvine wrapped an arm around Squall's waist, another around his shoulders, fingers threading through silk-soft hair, lips closing over skin, kissing his forehead, his eyes.

"I'm not leaving," he whispered. "Not leaving. I wouldn't... I'm absolutely, definitely not leaving. I'd rather stop breathing. You got that?"

A muffled voice came from somewhere around his neck. "Got it."

Irvine kissed around the curve of Squall's ear, palmed his jaw and tilted his face up, took Squall's mouth with his, groaned when Squall's tongue thrust between his lips, skimming over teeth, slick and firm and hungry. Felt himself shoved back towards the futon, and Squall's leg hooking behind his knees to steal his balance. They fell into the pile of cushions and Irvine swiftly rolled Squall over in a squeak of leather so that he was on top, tongues twisting together, fingers in hair and burrowing into clothing, popping buttons and zips in a confused need to reach bare skin. A few moments later they came up for air, a dishevelled tangle of limbs and half-discarded clothes and rumpled hair, and Irvine forced himself to concentrate and get Squall's shirt properly off. But Squall wasn't interested in such details, apparently; he seemed determined to distract him with kisses and licking his jaw and bucking his hips, humping Irvine's thigh.

"Naked," said Irvine, firmly. "Want you naked."

Squall grunted in protest and squirmed a little, but he did lift his shoulders so Irvine could strip the shirt from him, and let him go for long enough that Irvine could peel the trousers off his legs. And then he was naked, all hip bones and broad chest and strong limbs, and Irvine fought his way out of his own clothes in a frantic struggle to feel Squall's skin against his own, smooth and warm and beautiful. He had to pull himself away to tussle with his boots and jeans, and when he turned back Squall was kneeling up, hair falling over one eye, clutching a small bottle in one hand.

"Lie down."

Irvine stole a kiss first, with every intention of lying down right after, but somehow the kiss got long, and as Squall tugged him close his impossibly hard dick rubbed against Irvine's, and after that Irvine didn't care. He just wanted, anything, everything, the feel of Squall's hand and cock and lips and tongue and everything, just wanted, and next he knew he was on his back, because Squall always got his way, and slick fingers were inside him, squirming and stroking and opening him up, getting him ready, and the mouth on his dick was hot and wet and sucking, and he was murmuring something into Squall's hair that sounded like begging.

And then Squall was kissing him: his mouth, no tongue, just gentle lips nibbling at his, panting breath mixing with his, hands stilling and stroking at him, parting his thighs, resting calm on his belly as his cock filled him inch by glorious inch.

"I love you," Squall's voice rich and soft, lips tickling his ear. "This hard, this deep. I love you."

Irvine cried out, a sob escaping from the knot in his chest, and he tugged Squall's head down, kissed him hard as he wrapped his legs around his back, close as he could, full and hot and tight and lost; and Squall didn't start to move until the itch started, until Irvine wanted it so bad he thought he'd die, and then there was slick heat pumping inside him, cool fingers on the outside, twisting the pleasure out of his cock in confident, irresistible strokes. Irvine couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't see, even; all he wanted was to move and feel and let Squall do anything to him, anything so long as this never ended.

Only, as soon as he'd decided it was perfect and it would last forever, he came. He couldn't help it, couldn't stop it, completely out of control; he came screaming and bucking and all over his chest and belly and Squall's fingers, too long since last time, he just kept coming and coming until his balls hurt; was subsiding into ache and bliss when Squall cried out and thrust deeper than deep inside him, held him tight as he rode out his pleasure, body shuddering, voice hoarse, spurting wet inside Irvine's ass until he had nothing left.

Irvine drifted, dimly aware of Squall slipping out of him and rolling away; of soft kisses to his neck and a warm body nestling into the crook of his arm. Hair tickling his nose. A soft sigh; steady, even breathing.

"Good."

He realised he was smiling. "Very."

He wasn't ready to sleep, though, not really. He stroked Squall's fingers, splayed across his still-sticky chest.

This felt too good to miss by sleeping. And besides, there was still one thing left to ask.

"Squall, babe?"

"Mmn?"

"Tell me about Rinoa."

His body stiffened slightly; he twisted his head around to blink up at Irvine through his rumpled hair.

"Why?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Because I want to know. I want to understand, properly."

"Understand what?"

"How you feel."

There was a long pause; Squall lay back again, his head against Irvine's shoulder, so still that Irvine might have thought he'd fallen asleep if he hadn't been watching his eyes.

"Did you ever think about the orphanage gang?" he said, eventually. "Before we met up with you again at Galbadia, did you think about us much?"

"Always," said Irvine. "I missed everyone so much it hurt, everyday. I had loads of friends, but it never felt the same. It always seemed wrong, the way we were split up and sent all over the world. We should have been together."

"Well... it's partly like that. I just... miss her. Feel as though she should be here. Same way as I'd miss anyone: Selphie, Quisty, Zell."

"Me?"

"Um... no." Squall rubbed his nose on Irvine's collarbone. "You're different. This is more just a friend thing I'm talking about."

Irvine felt warm inside.

"But that's just part of it," Squall continued. "The other part, the magic... it's more like a junction. It's like when you've been linked to a GF for days, for weeks, and then you let it go, and you feel empty and hollow inside."

"Because the power's gone?"

"There's more to it, though, isn't there? You get used to having a presence in your mind, sharing everything, knowing everything. Only it feels right, really, to let the junction go... and this feels wrong. I thought it would get better, and it has, kind of, only it still sort of aches. Like there's something missing. Something important."

"Oh." Irvine hesitated for a moment, and then, in a small voice: "I can't make that better, can I?"

"No. Or at least, you can't make it go away. I think it's meant to be there."

Irvine stroked his hair, letting himself understand at last. "You don't love her, then? Not like this?"

"I told you, Irvine," said Squall with a smile in his voice. "I'm gay, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah." He smiled back. "Good."

"Good?"

"Well. That means I've only got half the population to feel jealous of."

Squall laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against Irvine's side.

"Ooh, look." Irvine reached out to the low table by the bed. "Elixir."

Squall's eyes lit up.

"Special occasion?" Irvine grinned at him.

"Feels pretty special to me." Squall grabbed for the bottle, but Irvine, with the advantage of longer arms, held it out of reach.

"You want to go again already? You really do have Galbadian blood flowing through those heroic veins of yours, don't you?"

Squall scowled at him, just hard enough that Irvine got worried that he hadn't recovered his sense of humour yet. But as soon as he took his attention off the elixir, Squall darted in, so fast Irvine could have sworn he must have been junctioned, and snatched it. Irvine squealed in protest and flailed after the precious bottle, but Squall was much too quick for him, even convulsed with laughter as he was.

"You... may as well... stop... struggling," Squall gasped between something that could only be described as giggling. It wasn't a sound that Irvine had ever heard Squall make before, and he was fascinated. "You... know I'll... win."

Irvine flopped back onto the bed. Squall was right. And besides, he had to admit he was curious as to what Squall planned to do with his prize.

"That's better," said Squall, kneeling astride Irvine's thighs, laughter subsiding. "Now lie there and do as you're told."

Irvine's cock twitched, jerking from its nest of curls to stretch up towards his navel. Squall noticed, raised an eyebrow and shuffled closer, his balls tickling Irvine's; his own soft cock nuzzling Irvine's stiffening one, velvety and just a little wet at the end. Irvine's body arched as a sudden quiver of pleasure shot through him.

And Squall hadn't even taken the stopper off the elixir bottle yet.

"Just lie still. Close your eyes." Squall trailed his fingers over Irvine's chest, smoothing his hair out of the way. Irvine relaxed, enjoying the rush of blood to his cock, the way it throbbed and pulsed to life, nuzzling against Squall's. If felt so right.

"This might tickle a bit."

Then there was a pop and a fizz, and a tingle of cool liquid that fell on Irvine's breastbone first, then spread, gentle fingers swirling and smoothing over his skin. Irvine arched up to meet the touch, air leaving his lungs in a long sigh, and the next splash hit a nipple. Squall swirled his fingers around the stiffening flesh, the delicious liquid sending waves of pleasure straight to Irvine's groin.

"Oh, gods..."

"Good?"

Irvine just moaned.

Squall switched to the other nipple, and Irvine couldn't resist opening his eyes, just catching the fading blue haze as the magical liquid soaked into his skin. Squall watched as Irvine's flesh responded, nipple puckering tight and hard. He looked fascinated, brow furrowed in concentration, fingers dabbling around in the pool of liquid, spreading it around Irvine's chest and over his ribs. Down towards his flat, quivering belly.

Squall tipped the bottle again, but it didn't fall on Irvine's straining cock, as he'd expected. It splashed over his balls instead, in a haze of multicoloured sparkles, and Irvine screamed, the sensation so intense he could hardly bear it. Then the tickle subsided to a fierce, glowing, pleasurable ache; he'd gone from generally horny to desperate to come in about ten seconds. He reached for his cock, knowing it would take no more than three strokes, needing it more than breath, but Squall pushed his hand away.

"Please," begged Irvine. "You do it, then, but please..."

Squall's devilish, lopsided grin told him he could beg forever and it would make no difference.

"Please?" he tried anyway.

"Patience," said Squall, tipping a palmful of elixir into his own hand. Irvine's fingers twitched towards his aching erection, but Squall stopped him with a glare.

"But..."

"My way," said Squall, firmly.

And to think that at one time that would have meant hard and fast and over in a minute, Irvine told himself. What a turnaround.

"My balls are about to explode," Irvine complained.

Squall ran his tongue over his lower lip, his expression totally devoid of sympathy. "Not until I say so."

"Oh fuck," Irvine whined. "You're not kidding, are you?"

Squall just grinned, shifting his legs to part Irvine's thighs and kneel between them. Cupped Irvine's balls in his elixir-coated palm; oddly soothing now the shock of that initial drenching had eased a bit. Clever fingers working their way around the root of his cock, spreading a thin layer of magical fluid all over Irvine's skin, working up the shaft one inch at a time, too slow to give satisfaction but firm enough to keep the ache alive. Irvine was panting; back arched, eyes closed; it was taking all his concentration to keep from thrusting into Squall's hand. So when he opened his eyes to see Squall straddling him again, holding Irvine's cock firmly by the root so it pointed straight to the ceiling while he poured a cascade of magical fluid over the head of it, he thought he was done for.

"Shhh," Squall whispered, wiggling around to get himself in position. "Just breathe. You'll be fine."

"I won't," said Irvine. "I can tell you now, if you do what I think you're going to-"

Squall kissed him silent, moving his mouth gently over Irvine's, making him ache inside, abandoning his cock for a moment to thread his fingers tenderly through Irvine's hair and stroke his temples, his jaw. Stopped for a moment to do something Irvine didn't quite see, but when Squall started kissing him again his mouth was full of effervescent liquid, pouring from his tongue to Irvine's; Irvine drank the elixir down, feeling its glow spread through him, and all of a sudden he realised his cock was pressing at the soft dimple of Squall's asshole, and Squall was pressing back, letting Irvine in on a rush of slick elixir. Still kissing, still stroking, soft and gentle and determined, and Irvine surrendered with a whimper. If he came now, well, Squall had only himself to blame, he decided. It all felt so good, was so good.

As it happened, it lasted much longer than he'd have thought possible. Somehow, once he was completely buried inside Squall's body; when Squall lay trembling on top of him, quivering with pure pleasure and lust; once they fit together like a puzzle and he felt closer to Squall than he ever had to any other human being in his whole life, the edge wore off his physical need, and all he really cared about was how very, very good it made him feel. Just to be here. Like this. With this stupidly heroic, fucked-up, quietly passionate man that he loved with all his heart.

Squall raised his head, far enough that Irvine could focus on his vivid blue eyes, on dark, impossibly-long eyelashes and perfect cheekbones; on swollen, damp lips and a glimpse of pink tongue.

Squall gave him a little smile that made his spine turn to jelly. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Irvine wished he'd said it first, wanted it to be more than an echo.

Next time he'd be quicker.

And then Squall started to move. Just circling his hips at first, rising up on strong arms so he could grind down hard into Irvine's groin, his beautiful cock reaching up straight and proud, damp at the end. Irvine held out his hand, nodding towards the bottle Squall still clutched in one fist, and Squall poured the last of it into his waiting palm. Quickly, before it evaporated, Irvine spread it over Squall's erection, enjoying the resulting gasp from Squall's throat.

"Slowly," said Squall, huskily. "Slow as you can."

Irvine did his very best, but inevitably as Squall started to move himself on Irvine's cock they fell into their own familiar, irresistible rhythm, and Squall thrust into Irvine's hand as Irvine thrust into his ass, and there was no holding back any more. It wasn't hard and fast, but it was consuming and unstoppable; all Irvine was aware of was the blissful slip and twist of hard flesh in his hand, and the glorious, snug fit of Squall's body. Sweet, sweet friction.

"Oh gods," Squall whispered, arms quivering with tension. "I can't... I'm... oh gods... I'm... don't stop. Please don't stop."

"As if I ever would," Irvine chided, and Squall managed a grin before his pleasure overtook him, eyes squinching shut, mouth open as he yelled, the first shot arcing through the air to splash on Irvine's face, the second on his chest, the third and more coating his hand as he kept stroking, pumping every last drop.

His cock was still hard, still twitching, balls still locked up tight as Irvine clutched his hips, holding him still as he pounded his last few strokes into him; his body so fixed on holding back that it took that long for him to finally let go, and even then the first spurt was a battle between restraint and need, an almost painful release. Then Squall's fingers were in his hair, soothing; he could taste Squall's come on his lips, feel it sticky on his skin; and at last his orgasm consumed him, blanking his mind of everything but overwhelming pleasure.

It left him gasping for breath, body heaving, every nerve ending on fire. And Squall was kissing his face and his hair and his neck, his body warm and bony and familiar on top of him, and Irvine wanted to cry.

"You're crying," came Squall's voice, surprised.

Okay, maybe that thought had gone further than he'd acknowledged.

"Nah," he said, his voice coming out all croaky and hoarse. "Something in my eye."

They looked at each other.

"Yeah, right," said Squall.

Irvine scrubbed the wet from his eyes with the back of his hand, and grinned a little sheepishly. "So, d'you think they've opened the door yet?"

Squall shrugged. "How'd they know when we'd made up? Unless-" A possibility crossed his mind; he paled visibly. "You don't suppose- ?"

"Who knows? Where Seffie's concerned, anything's possible."

Squall looked nervously at the ceiling.

Irvine laughed. "Don't be daft. They wouldn't do that. Besides, the Torama has a reputation to uphold. A lot of top secret things take place in this room. No way they'd allow surveillance."

"Oh." Squall relaxed a little. "Okay. Well, I'll go see if it's open." He swung himself off Irvine's body, and yawned. "Mmm. Maybe in a minute."

"Yeah." Irvine tugged him down beside him, wrapped his arms around him, hand settling possessively on his belly, legs tangled together. "In a minute."

"Mmmm."

By the end of a minute, they were both fast asleep.


	9. Home

There was a soft pillow under his cheek, snug covers cuddled around him, and he was curled front to back with a dozing, sleep-warm Squall.

Irvine smiled.

"Mmm," said Squall, squirming his ass back into Irvine's groin and clasping Irvine's hand firmly into his belly. "Hard."

"Always," Irvine purred, his morning wood pressing happily into the valley of Squall's soft-skinned bottom.

"I meant me," said Squall, lowering Irvine's hand to feel his own impressive erection.

Irvine closed his fingers happily around it and squeezed hello. For a few minutes they idly pressed and thrusted and made contented little noises. Bit by bit, however, things got more intense, and before Irvine knew it Squall was writhing under his touch, fucking his hand with a more definite rhythm. His own cock was cheerfully burrowing between Squall's buttocks. He thought maybe about burrowing a little further, but decided there was no need. It was enough, to enjoy the warmth and gentle friction here. No need to fuck. Not after last night.

On the twenty first morning that Irvine woke up in bed with Squall, he felt mostly sated, very content and extremely happy.

Squall leaned back into him, twisted around to claim a kiss. He was smiling too, Irvine noted. And his cock felt so, so good in Irvine's hand.

"That okay, babe?"

"Mmmm," said Squall.

Irvine nuzzled into Squall's neck, nipped at his earlobe, tugged on his earring. Squall made a throaty little chuckle and started to rotate his hips a bit, massaging Irvine's delighted cock with his ass. Irvine groaned softly. "You keep doing that and I'm gonna make your ass all sticky," he whispered.

"You keep doing that and you'll have to lick your hand clean."

"Oh good," purred Irvine. "I could do with something to tide me over 'til breakfast."

Squall growled and wriggled and started to thrust more purposefully into Irvine's fist, all the time rubbing his perfect little backside all over Irvine's cock. Irvine's body shifted suddenly from languid pleasure to hunger, and when Squall's hand wormed its way between them to tickle Irvine's balls, he was done for. His cock tingled and swelled and surged between Squall's buttocks, and suddenly everything was slick and warm as he coated Squall's skin and his own cock with his semen, a few long, satisfying spurts that left him warm and glowing, and with a sudden urge to take Squall in his mouth. Ignoring his lover's cry of distress when he took his hand away, Irvine swiftly tugged Squall onto his back and dived under the covers, gentle fingers sliding through his hair as Squall gasped and surged between his lips. Hot and thick and hard as Irvine sucked the come out of him. Squall kept writhing, balls pulsing in Irvine's palm, hips bucking as he emptied himself into Irvine's mouth; thick and creamy and tasting of elixir and, faintly, strawberries.

Oh yes. Irvine smiled around Squall's cock as he remembered. The strawberries.

Squall was panting, fingers twitching against Irvine's scalp, his softening cock probably a bit sensitive for any more attention just now. Irvine let it drop from his mouth, kissed the head and nuzzled it into its usual resting position, just right of centre, pointing towards Squall's hip.

The touch in his hair was gentle now, massaging in little circles, and Squall's chest was rising and falling steadily, taking deep, satisfying breaths. He looked up and caught Squall's grin, returned it.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Morning," said Squall. Still grinning.

"I'm sticky. You?"

"Oh yeah," said Squall happily. "Shower?"

"In a minute. Just gotta catch my breath."

"Mmmm."

Irvine sank down at Squall's side, head propped on one elbow, and watched Squall smile.

"Good sleep?"

"Yeah." Squall stretched and yawned, eyes squinched shut. "What time is it?"

"Dunno. Morning, I think."

Squall opened one eye. "Early or late?"

Irvine shrugged. "I'm hungry. So late, maybe. Or perhaps it's early and I just worked up an appetite." He smirked.

Squall smirked back. "Man cannot live by strawberries alone."

"I'm not so sure." Irvine traced his fingers over Squall's chest, making little patterns. "We could try."

"Hmmm."

"So, we go home tomorrow. What d'you want to do on our last day?"

"I have a meeting," said Squall. "And, um..." His brow furrowed a little.

"What?"

"We might not be going home, exactly."

"Oh. Well, of course, there'll be things to figure out here first, right? So what, a few days? A week?"

Squall shuffled up to sitting, and glanced at the clock. He frowned. "Can you tell the time with those things?"

Irvine shrugged. "Beats me. So, how long we staying?"

"A few months, I think. Maybe a year."

"Oh."

"At least that's what I'm thinking."

Irvine wondered where Squall had found the time to think, what with saving the world yesterday and getting fucked silly last night. "You really think that's necessary?"

"I want to make sure Cass is alright." Squall picked up Irvine's hand and squeezed it. "After all, if I'd left it to Esthar fuck knows what would have happened to Rinoa."

"You can trust Laguna, though. He'll take care of her."

"I know, but. I can't, really. His track record's not too good, is it?"

"What d'you mean?" Irvine found himself feeling a little defensive on Laguna's behalf. He'd saved the world himself, after all, in his day.

"He lost Ellone - more than once. Adel escaped. And he would have let them seal up Rinoa."

"But-"

"He's a good man. But he's fucking incompetent sometimes, too. Irresponsible."

"I thought that's what Kiros was for," Irvine said lightly.

"Maybe. But the point is... I promised Cass I'd look out for her. I'm not going to let her down."

"'Course. I get that. Totally. Well, she's my friend, remember?"

Squall gave him a tentative smile, eyes searching Irvine's face. Jealousy check, thought Irvine.

"I'm fine about it. Really."

Squall seemed to believe him. "It'll help with the Trabia project, too. Selphie and Quistis would have had to spend a lot of time here anyway, and it'll be easier to oversee the monster cull if we're here in person."

"That makes sense."

"And..."

Irvine waited, but Squall didn't finish; after a moment he shrugged and made a move to get out of bed. Irvine tugged on his hand. "And what?"

"Just..." Squall looked shyly at him through his messy hair. "I'd like to spend some time with Dad. I mean. Kind of. Yeah."

Irvine flung his arms around him in a huge hug that woofed the breath from Squall's lungs. Arms folded around him in return, patted his back gently.

"I love you," Irvine breathed into Squall's neck. "You're so fucking adorable."

Squall squeaked indignantly. "Adorable?"

"In a butch, manly, heroic kind of way," Irvine elucidated.

"Oh. Well, whatever." Words muffled by Irvine's shoulder as he hugged Irvine back.

"He'll be so pleased."

"Will he?"

"He thinks the world of you, babe. Of course he'll be pleased."

Squall shrugged, clearly unconvinced. "I don't want to interfere in Esthar or anything."

"You won't be. This isn't about work, is it?"

Squall considered that for a moment. Irvine was right, of course. He hadn't really seen it that way, though. He still wasn't used to thinking about things that weren't to do with SeeD. It was a whole new world, this friends and family thing, and it still made him nervous as hell. Work was easier. There were ranks and protocols and meetings...

"Oh Hyne. Meeting!" He wriggled around to reach his watch. "Fuck, it's late. Fuck."

Irvine gave a low growl, but let Squall squirm out of his arms. "What meeting?"

"Called it last night, sorry, forgot to tell you. Debriefing and post-mission planning. Come on!"

"What, I have to go too?"

"Of course you do, moron. That means you have to get out of bed, now."

"Don't wanna," Irvine grumbled. "Warm here. Interesting. It's cold out there and meetings are boring."

"Suit yourself. I'm going to take a shower. If you want to stay here..."

"Oh. Well, if you put it like that...."

Squall padded off to the bathroom, and somehow all Irvine could do was follow.

* * * * * * *

It didn't help the meeting get off to a dignified start when Quistis and Selphie greeted Squall and Irvine's entrance with a peal of giggles. At first Squall thought he'd left his pants undone or something. Then he remembered exactly how he'd come to be locked in the back room of the Torama with Irvine for half the night. He silenced the girls with a particularly vicious glare.

Irvine just grinned at them.

Cid rose to his feet and warmly shook Squall's hand. "Thank you once again, Squall. Excellent mission."

Squall smiled politely, trying to be gracious despite the embarrassment that crawled through him. At least this incident had been kept away from public notice. He didn't think he could endure a repeat of all the fuss that had followed their defeat of Ultimecia.

He took his seat between Laguna and Irvine, and looked around the table: it appeared they'd been the last to arrive.

The shower had taken a little longer than he'd planned.

"Did you sleep well, Squall?" said Quistis, far too innocently.

Squall glowered at her.

"Shall we start?" said Laguna mildly. "Squall?"

"Yes," said Squall. "Please."

He focused on Martine, sitting across the table from him, chin resting on steepled fingers. Easier then, to keep some kind of distance from the frivolity that was definitely in the air. As always, there were things to do, decisions to make. It was never a simple matter of tying up loose ends and getting on with their lives as if nothing had happened.

"How's Cass?" he asked.

"She's doing fine," said Laguna. "They expect her to be able to leave the med. centre this morning."

"And then?"

"She's been assigned quarters in the Presidential Palace."

"Aren't there..." Squall flinched inwardly, knowing Irvine wasn't going to like this, "security implications of keeping her here?"

"Nothing our teams can't handle," said Kiros. "We're installing detectors to pick up any parapsych activity, and there will be a limiting field in place."

"We'll be monitoring her closely," said Laguna. "If there's any change I'll let you know straight away."

"She's a human being," muttered Irvine. Bristling, as Squall had expected. And not without reason.

"She's a sorceress," said Martine. "You know how it goes, Kinneas."

"We'll take good care of her, I promise," said Laguna. "It's for her own safety, too. You know how much bad feeling there is about sorceresses in the world."

Squall remembered all too well, after all he'd seen Rinoa go through. Protest marches, anonymous messages, death threats...

"I guess," grumbled Irvine.

"She's free," said Squall, firmly. "I understand what you're saying, but I don't want her to end up a prisoner."

"You have my word," said Laguna.

"Thank you. And, don't take this the wrong way, but, I propose to stay in Esthar, with my team, for the foreseeable future. To oversee Cass' training and to make sure our Trabia deal works out."

Quistis and the others looked surprised; Squall wondered briefly whether he should have told them before hand. Probably.

He'd get the hang of this eventually. At least, he hoped so.

"That's fantastic news!" exclaimed Laguna. For one terrified moment Squall thought he was going to hug him. But thankfully he restrained himself to a shoulder-slap and a broad grin. And Squall had to confess to a warm feeling inside, that Laguna was pleased.

"It certainly makes a lot of sense," said Martine. Amazingly. Squall wasn't sure the Commander of Galbadia Garden had ever agreed with him before.

Of course, it would mean that he, Squall, was a lot further away from Galbadia and whatever schemes Martine might have up his sleeve. That might explain his uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Squall made a mental note to give Xu clear orders to keep Galbadia firmly in mind while she was in charge of Balamb.

"Excellent idea," said Cid.

"That's settled then," beamed Laguna. "And you'll be able to come to the music festival."

"Um, yes. We'll also do our best to relocate Odine."

"Don't rush," Laguna murmured under his breath, at the same time as Kiros said "thank you."

"And there's still the matter of Seifer," said Martine.

"We can keep an eye on him, too," said Squall.

"Actually," said Cid, cautiously, "I had an idea."

Squall regarded him dubiously.

"Go for it," said Laguna. "What's on your mind?"

"I'd like Seifer to come back to the Orphanage with me," said Cid. "I've been rattling around there on my own these past months, trying to put things in order... I could use an extra pair of hands. And I think I could teach the boy a thing or two."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Squall.

Cid looked a little hurt.

"Why not?" said Irvine. "Keep him out of trouble."

He was grinning, and the leg that pressed against Squall's under the table was mostly playful, but Squall had learned a lot about Irvine since the midwinter festival. His lover wanted Seifer as far away as possible, and it was nothing to do with any physical danger he might pose.

"You're not going to let him get away with what he did?!" Zell exclaimed.

"It wasn't entirely his fault," said Squall. "He's been under a lot of pressure."

There was an uncomfortable silence around the table. Even Laguna looked at Squall as though he'd gone mad.

"None of you know what it's like to lose a sorceress," Squall continued, "except for Cid and me. It's not easy to cope with."

"That's no excuse," said Quistis. "You and Cid haven't gone on a rampage since Edea and Rinoa left."

"Our circumstances are, uh, different," said Cid. "I believe we made a mistake when we exiled the boy to FH. I've been talking to his friends while you were all away on your mission, and it made me realise how much of this is our fault. He didn't know what it meant when he agreed to be a Knight. He went through some terrible, terrible things. Quite simply, he didn't know how to cope when she was gone. The loneliness..." His voice choked up and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Squall shifted uncomfortably, and looked down at the pad in front of him, tapping his pencil against the crisp white paper.

"It's fitting, when you think about it," said Irvine. "Cid could help him come to terms with the whole sorceress thing, and he'd be helping rebuild the orphanage."

"Or he could stay here," Zell said, "and be locked up where he couldn't do it again. Because he will. You know what he's like."

"Or," said Quistis, with a swift glare at Zell, "he could stay here and Squall could help him."

"He could help with the Trabia project," Selphie suggested. "Seeing as how it was him who blew up the first one. Kinda."

Everyone looked at Squall. He fought back a surge of resentment - why did they always expect him to decide everything, especially where Seifer was concerned?

Still, it was an easy decision. He wanted to keep Seifer where he could keep an eye on him, and although he knew Cid was well-meaning, he had little faith in the man's abilities to control Seifer if he got it into his head to do anything stupid. Of course Seifer should stay in Esthar.

If it wasn't for the look in Irvine's eyes.

It went against Squall's better judgement. It wasn't the decision he should make, as Commander of Balamb Garden.

It was what his lover wanted.

"Seifer goes with Cid," he said. "But I want reports every day, and I want Raijin and Fujin to go too. If they agree."

"I'm sure they will," said Cid, eagerly. "Thank you, Squall. It means a lot to me."

His eyes were shining, hands clasped delightedly in front of his chest, as if Squall had given him a present rather than a six-foot arrogant headache.

Maybe Cid needed to make amends of some sort, too, Squall thought.

A foot nudged his under the table, but he didn't dare meet Irvine's eye. He was vaguely aware of Zell's fist hitting the table in anger at his decision, but left that for Quistis to deal with, which she did with a sharp word he couldn't quite hear. One thing about Zell: he may be mad now, but he'd have forgotten all about it by tomorrow. Especially once Squall put him in charge of a whole sector of the Great Plains to cull of monsters.

"If you're sure," said Kiros, clearly as surprised at Squall's decision as everyone else.

"We'll see how it goes," muttered Squall.

"It's for the best," said the delighted Cid. "You'll see."

Squall could only hope he was right.

"That just leaves Koshi," said Selphie.

"I confess I never understood her involvement," said Kiros. "Is she attached to Seifer in some way?"

"Not any more," said Quistis. "They had a falling out."

"It's-" Irvine began, but Squall kicked him sharply under the table.

"Complicated," Squall finished for him, ignoring his little squeak of pain.

"The simple version," Quistis said, with something of an amused smile, "is that she met Seifer at FH and developed a crush on him. Followed him here and then got jealous when Cass came along."

"But she did play a part in the girl's kidnap?" Kiros' brow furrowed. "Didn't she?"

"Not exactly," said Quistis. "According to Koshi there was no kidnap. Cass met Seifer at the club and went willingly with him."

"So what does she plan to do now?" asked Squall, trying not to remember how quick he was to abandon Cass outside the Torama that night. Trying not to remember the desperate, magic-laced taste of her kiss.

"She wants to go back to FH," said Quistis. "I don't think she'll cause any more trouble."

"Anyone got a problem with that?" asked Laguna, searching the faces around the table. He was met with a range of shrugs and shaking of heads. "Good. That's settled then. Anything else, Squall?"

"No," said Squall, with some relief. "I think that's about it. We'll need to meet later with your team, work out a schedule for Cass and-"

"Tomorrow," said Laguna, firmly. "Lunch next. And then tonight, there's a reception in your honour."

Squall groaned inwardly, a deep scowl appearing on his face. He shouldn't have been surprised.

"Sorry, son," said Laguna, cheerfully.

And this time, he knew that even Irvine couldn't get him out of it.

* * * * * * *

Irvine pressed the entry buzzer and waited patiently. After a few moments the door swooshed open and Cass stood blinking at him. She looked like anything but a glamorous sorceress, dressed in an old robe, hair damp and dishevelled.

"You were asleep," he realised. "I'm sorry. I can come back later-"

She yawned, shaking her head, and stepped back from the door, beckoning him in behind her. "Don't worry. Feels like I've been sleeping forever. I could do with a reason to wake up for a while."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure. It's nice to see a friendly face."

"Are they treating you alright?" Irvine followed her through the hallway and into a modest living area. The same basic design as Squall's apartment, but much smaller.

" Yeah. The armed guard's a bit disconcerting, but I suppose I'll get used to it." She sat down on a low couch, curling her legs up underneath her, and indicated for him to sit next to her.

"It won't be forever." Irvine sat down and popped his hat on the table.

"Maybe. Besides. It's what I asked for, isn't it?"

Irvine smiled. "I guess. I want you to remember, though, if you ever want to go out anywhere or anything, let me know. You're not under arrest."

"Thanks." She shoved the hair back from her face, and yawned. Her eyes were still sleepy, but she looked well: her skin was glowing with health in a way Irvine was coming to associate with sorceresses. "It's all good, really. I know I'm going to need a lot of help to deal with this."

"It must be a shock."

"Yeah. You could say that."

"When did you realise that you were, you know..."

"A sorceress? I hadn't a clue until Squall told me. I knew something had happened to me; I felt really well all of a sudden, not half knackered like I usually am. Especially at work. And then my hand healed, and I started to feel this buzz inside. Then that night... I was frightened. Panicked."

"And that's why it seemed a good idea to go with Seifer?"

She frowned, and tugged her robe a bit tighter around herself. "You make it sound like he forced me. He didn't, not at all. I know none of you like him, and he did some stupid things... but he was the only one who really... I mean... he listened. He knew what I was talking about. He made me feel safe."

"You could have come to me, babe. Or Squall."

"Yeah. Well." She shifted uncomfortably, plucking at the beading around the sofa. "I know he's your boyfriend, and don't get me wrong, he's been great about the whole thing, but. He's a bit scary, y'know? I did try, but he's not the easiest person in the world to talk to, and you were kind of busy with him, and that Tanya woman pretty much warned me off of you anyway."

"It's not like you to let anyone tell you what to do," said Irvine, in a small voice. Because she was right, of course. His conscience prodded at him with a smug 'told you so'.

"She didn't, exactly," said Cass, wryly. "She told me you were a faithless bastard and that I'd be better off having nothing to do with you."

"Oh." Irvine looked at the floor between his feet, wishing he could strenuously deny it. But he couldn't, not really.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," said Cass. "I can see now that Seifer's no saner than the rest of you. Maybe he did just want another sorceress, maybe he didn't care for me at all. Whatever. It doesn't seem important now."

"I'm really sorry," said Irvine. "It's not that I don't care. I know I haven't been much of a... much of anything for you."

She shrugged. "You've got your own life and your own stuff to deal with. We never made any promises."

"All the same..."

"Thanks, by the way. For offering to be my Knight and all. It was a bit, um, unexpected."

"That's okay. I do try and do the decent thing from time to time." Irvine managed a fleeting grin. "Must be hanging round with these hero-types, rubs off on a man after all."

She grinned back.

"Anyway," he said. "For what it's worth I think you did the right thing. And it was very brave of you."

"Yeah. So they tell me."

"And I'm glad it's worked out. It sounds like you made the right choice."

She smiled at him. "Yeah. Well, it beats working behind a bar, huh?"

Irvine smiled back and was about to voice his agreement. But then she crumpled. In an instant the smile turned to a grimace and she burst into tears; burying her face in her hands, knees rising to her chest, curling tight. For a minute he thought she must be in pain, or perhaps, and in the seconds it took to reach her side he instinctively checked his junctions. But there was no attack, no crackle of magic. When he tentatively put out a hand to touch her shoulder she threw her arms around him and sobbed her heart out.

He held her, rocked her gently, stroked her hair.

"I can't do this," she whimpered. "I'm not strong enough. I keep thinking, what if I turn evil? What if I hurt people? And it's all so different. People never used to notice me before, not unless they wanted a drink, or someone's shoulder to cry on. Now everyone knows who I am, the whole world will know. I feel like some kind of freak."

"Oh babe. I'm sorry. You're tired, you'll feel better when you've had some sleep maybe..."

She sniffed loudly. "Maybe. Or if I got some fresh air, or... but there's no way I can go for a walk by myself. I can't even get drunk - did you know that? It's a sorceress thing, my body heals itself all the time, gets rid of toxins. However much I drink, I never get pissed."

"Really? That sucks. But y'know, it won't be forever. They'll help you, teach you to control your power. And you won't be under house arrest forever. Squall wouldn't allow it; he went through all this with Rinoa, and he has a habit of getting his way." Irvine tilted her head up, brushed the streaks of tears and snot from her face with the back of his hand. "I promise, one day you'll make the magic work for you, and just for you. One day," he said, solemnly, "you and I will get rat-arsed together again."

That raised a giggle, at least, albeit a subdued one.

"That's better," he said. "If it helps any, I'm pretty sure one of the reasons Squall's staying in Esthar is to make sure they treat you right. And he must think you're strong enough, or he wouldn't have agreed to help you do this. He doesn't do things on a whim, exactly, our Squall."

Cass managed a small smile, and there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. "And yet he's with you," she said. "How on earth did you pull that one?"

"That's a secret I can't possibly divulge. Except to say there were balloons involved."

She laughed. "I don't think I want to know."

"Just as well, 'cos I'll never tell. Now, why don't you go get dressed and I'll show you around. Have you seen the garden yet?"

She shook her head.

"We'll start there, then."

Her eyes lit up, suddenly. "Really? Now? You're serious?"

"Always, babe. Did they give you any clothes?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Estharian robes."

"Hmm. In that case, tomorrow," he got up and held out his hand to help her to her feet. "You me and Selphie are going shopping."

"I don't want to drag you away from Squall," she said, but her face was beaming with excitement, her tears drying fast.

"He's got meetings all day," said Irvine. "So. What d'you say?"

"I say thank you, Irvy. For everything."

She flung her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"You're welcome. Now, how about that tour?"

* * * * * * *

It was only when he heard the outer door to his rooms open that Squall realised he'd been listening for it. His heart skipped a beat as Irvine yelled "hi babe," and Squall could hear him in the living area, taking off coat and hat and boots, humming softly to himself.

Squall shoved the report he'd been failing to read back on the pile by the bed, and greeted Irvine with a warm smile.

"Hyne, but you're a sight for sore eyes," Irvine said, joining Squall on the bed as he tugged the band out of his ponytail to let his hair fall free over his shoulders.

"You too," said Squall. "I don't think I could read another report on the distribution of monster populations over the Estharian plains without screaming."

"That bad?"

"We've got our work cut out. Killing the monsters is going to be the easy part, though. It's the paperwork afterwards that'll be the real problem."

Irvine wrinkled his nose. "I hate paperwork."

"Yes, I know," said Squall. "Quistis is always telling me how much you hate it."

"Ah well," said Irvine with a sheepish smile, sliding his fingers through Squall's hair as he moved in for a kiss. "Nice to know she cares."

"I don't think she quite... mngnfff...." And then Irvine's mouth was on his, warm and firm and irresistible, and Squall forgot all about Quistis. He wound his arms around Irvine's neck, and settled back on the pillows.

"How long before the reception?" murmured Irvine, nuzzling Squall's neck.

"'Bout an hour," said Squall, happily.

"You got any meetings?"

"No. You got any damsels in distress to take on unauthorised tours?"

"Oh." Irvine lifted his head; his indigo eyes twinkled at Squall though long strands of auburn hair. "You heard about that, then?"

"Of course. I've asked to be told about everything to do with Cass. Including tours." Squall slid a hand under Irvine's shirt to stroke the soft skin at the small of his back.

"She was going mad, cooped up in her apartment. I figured you wouldn't mind."

"She's your friend. I trust you to know what's good for her."

"Thanks." He dropped a kiss on Squall's nose. "You know, you're my friend, too. That means I know what's good for you, as well."

"Oh yeah? And that would be...?"

Irvine grinned wolfishly. "A damn good fucking, I'd say."

Squall's belly flipped over. "Really?"

Irvine's hand slid down between their bodies to cup the outline of Squall's already rock-hard cock. "Oh yeah. You up for it?"

"Feels like it," murmured Squall, pushing himself against Irvine's palm.

"Oh Hyne." Irvine kissed him again, and this time his tongue slid into Squall's mouth, slick and warm. Squall moaned softly and twisted his own around it. He tugged at Irvine's shirt, pulling it out of his jeans and exposing a broad stripe of skin to stroke and knead and tickle. Then, to Squall's dismay, Irvine stopped kissing and stroking, and knelt back on his heels.

"Need these off." He tugged at one of Squall's belts. "And your pants. In fact, I think I want you naked."

Squall grinned at him. "I will if you will."

Irvine grinned back. "Sounds fair."

They quickly undressed, pausing every now and then when Irvine's need to kiss some part of Squall's body overcame his desire to get him naked. Finally their clothes were in an untidy heap at the side of the bed, and Squall was drinking in the sight of Irvine's lean, golden-skinned body as it stretched out on the bed next to him.

His eyes were inevitably drawn down to Irvine's long, proudly erect cock that arced towards his navel, bending just a little to the left. Squall trailed his fingers over the purplish head and along the flushed skin of the shaft, incredibly smooth and soft, until he reached his plump, fuzz-covered balls. There was a bead of fluid pooling in the tip of Irvine's cock, and Squall just had to taste it. He lowered his head and flicked out his tongue, scooping up the precious liquid in one darting lick. Irvine gasped, and his dick throbbed.

Squall licked him again. Slower this time, his tongue flat and wet, swiping thoroughly over the head of his cock. And again, licking up the shaft like a lollipop, swirling around the crown, wriggling his tongue along the ridges and dipping into the pouting slit at the top before planting a kiss there.

Irvine made a kind of whimpering noise, and stroked Squall's hair.

Squall looked up at him, opened his mouth, and swallowed Irvine whole. All in one go, right past tongue and carefully guarded teeth and down his throat, stuffing his mouth full of thick, hard dick. Irvine's hips lurched instinctively, his body wanting to thrust deep into the slick cavern it had suddenly found itself in, and Squall let him, waggling his tongue as it lay like a cushion along the underside of Irvine's cock, working his throat, teasing Irvine's balls with careful fingers. Irvine fucked his mouth slowly, cautiously, checking all the while to make sure Squall was alright, even though Squall was doing his best to render him incapable of thought.

Squall began to suck gently, and Irvine's fingers tightened in his hair. "Hang on a minute, babe. C'mere." Irvine gave Squall's ass a playful smack. "Scoot around and give me something to do here." Squall obediently wriggled around, letting Irvine arrange him to his satisfaction. He ended up straddling Irvine's shoulders, feeding his cock into Irvine's mouth as he took Irvine's back into his own. They settled to slurping each other in happy symmetry, murmuring happily around mouthfuls of hard flesh, hips rocking in a steady rhythm. Licked-wet fingers slid into Squall's ass, squirming and thrusting and rubbing, and Squall drowned in the scent of Irvine's body, male and clean and familiar as he returned the favour. Irvine's cock felt so thick and hard in his mouth, dripping precome onto his tongue every time Squall rubbed that place deep inside that made Irvine groan and shudder. Never mind the velvety caress of Irvine's mouth over his own sex, impossibly warm and wet and soft and hard all at once.

Then Irvine mumbled something that made his cock feel great but was completely unintelligible, and it didn't matter because Squall could tell, knew from the rocking of Irvine's hips that he was about to come. Wondered if he could manage to come at the same time, exactly, spurt for spurt, but in the end he couldn't, quite, Irvine's body rigid under him for a moment before he filled his mouth with thick gushes of slick cream, so much that it was all Squall could do to keep it in his mouth, and that was the thought that pushed him over the edge, sucking desperately on Irvine's cock as it dribbled the last few drops onto his tongue. All Squall was aware of was perfect suction, and that he was coming, now, and close, and now, and _there_, shooting from his cock straight into Irvine's throat as Irvine swallowed greedily.

Spent, Squall fell shakily to the side, just clearing Irvine's body before he collapsed panting onto the bed. Irvine sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, a wide grin on his face.

He must have dozed off for a moment; when he opened his eyes again he'd curled up with his head on Irvine's legs, and Irvine was watching him and stroking his hair.

Squall yawned, Irvine's fingers blissfully soothing against his scalp. He could easily fall asleep again like this.

"Busy day at the office, Commander?"

"Hmm." He nuzzled Irvine's thigh, breathed in his scent. "Talking. Too much fucking talking."

Irvine chuckled. "Poor baby."

"Too right." Squall fidgeted around, trying to get comfortable. "Hyne, but your hips are bony, man."

"Sorry. You want a pillow?"

"No, I'm okay." Squall kissed the nearest of Irvine's hipbones in apology - they were very sexy, after all, especially when he wore low slung jeans and that cropped top - and Irvine sat up a bit, propping himself up on pillows so Squall could rest his head in his lap.

Better.

"So who'd you have to talk to, babe? Lots of paranoid Estharian officials?"

"Seifer," said Squall. A muscle twitched in Irvine's thigh.

"Oh."

"Had to make sure he knows exactly what's going to happen if he takes advantage of the situation."

"I don't suppose that involved beating him up at all?" asked Irvine hopefully.

"No. More threats, really. But I did want to hit him. Smug, self-satisfied bastard."

Even without looking at Irvine's face, Squall could tell how happy that made him.

"And after that there was a long talk with Raijin and Fujin."

"They must be grateful you brought their glorious leader back in one piece."

"I suppose they were. They didn't much like the idea of spending the next however long it's going to be rebuilding the orphanage with Cid, though."

"Even less fun than FH, I guess."

"Yeah. I feel sorry for them, really."

"They made their choice."

"And they stuck to it. They're incredibly loyal. You've got to admire them for that."

"Or foolish," suggested Irvine. "Misplaced loyalty is foolish."

Squall sighed. Irvine clearly wasn't going to get over his new found jealousy any time soon.

Although, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit he rather liked it. It made it near-impossible to give any credence to the bitter little voice inside him that occasionally tried to convince him that Irvine didn't really care. And that was good.

"I hope this has taught them a lesson," he said. "Maybe next time they'll tell us something's up before Seifer gets totally out of control."

"We can wish." And then, after a pause: "you think there'll be a next time, then?"

"Probably," Squall admitted. "But it won't take us by surprise after this. We'll nip it in the bud. I don't want to go through all that again."

Irvine affectionately mussed his hair. "Bullshit. You love it really."

Squall raised his head from his warm muscly pillow to give Irvine a steely glare.

Even though he knew, sure as day, that Irvine was right.

* * * * * * *

There was no doubting that Esthar was beautiful. A skyline of towers and spires under the soft pink glow of the barrier that kept them isolated from the rest of the world. Like a castle in the sky.

Irvine idly wondered why most of the windows in the palace were at the ends of corridors, like this one, and not in the actual rooms. You'd think with a view like that....

"Hey, babe."

Irvine turned away from the window to see Squall watching him with a soft smile on his face. "Hey."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I knew you'd be ages getting ready so I thought I'd wait out here. It's getting dark."

He got a brief scowl for the accusation, but it was only fleeting. Irvine realised he was getting to like Squall's glares; it meant his teasing worked, and he liked the idea that he could tease Squall these days without fearing the sudden appearance of Lionheart at his throat.

"You look good. Uniform suits you."

Irvine smiled. "Thanks. You too."

Which was an understatement. Squall looked nothing short of stunning in full dress uniform, all broad shouldered and dignified, and he had his hair in a little pony tail at the nape of his neck.

Squall crossed the room to stand at Irvine's side and look out at the sunset.

"It's three weeks today," said Squall, softly.

Irvine's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah. We've come a long way in three weeks, babe." He snuck a sideways look at Squall; he was smiling.

Squall's shoulder brushed his; Irvine slipped his arm around him.

"D'you mind staying here?" Squall said.

"Sure, why not? It's a cool city. Good night life, so they tell me."

They shared a grin.

"It's going to be weird," said Squall. "Being with Dad so much and not knowing what's going on back home..."

"Living in a world of pink and purple plastic..."

"Fuck, yeah. D'you think they'll let us redecorate our apartment?"

Irvine enjoyed a warm glow at the way Squall had so casually referred to it as theirs. Not his. Theirs.

"You will know what's going on back home, babe. Xu's reports are very thorough."

"Yeah," said Squall with a sly grin. "If you stop fucking me long enough for me to read them."

"That could be a problem," Irvine admitted cheerfully.

Squall's eyes smouldered at him. "Not a problem."

Irvine melted inside, his pants suddenly tight and his legs like jelly.

They looked out at the red and purple sky for a moment, and Irvine was about to suggest they leave for the reception when Squall spoke again, this time in a small, uncertain voice.

"Thing is... 'vine, I've no idea how to be a son. What if it all goes wrong and we end up hating each other, and-"

Irvine put a finger to his lips.

"It'll be fine," he said. "I promise. Oh, and, by the way, I love you."

And before Squall could say anything else, Irvine pulled him close and kissed his doubts away.

Like magic.

_~fin~_


End file.
